


Criminal Bonds

by Aku_Maru



Series: Criminal Universe [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Timelines, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Apparently young Genji can be a little shit, Battle of the Brothers, Boundaries, Breaking Up & Making Up, Canon-Typical Violence, Deadlock McCree, Demisexual Hanzo, Developing Relationship, First Kiss, Flirting, Graphic Description, Graphic Description of Attempting Revival, Inspired by McHanzo Week 2017, Long-Term Relationship(s), Loss of Innocence, Loss of Trust, M/M, Near Death Experiences, Role Models, Scion Hanzo Shimada, Sensuality, Sexual Frustration, Slow Burn, Slow Burn officially bumped up to Steamy, Sombra too, Unresolved Sexual Tension, With Greater Conflict Comes Greater Fluff, Young Genji Shimada, Young Hanzo Shimada, Young Jesse McCree, Young Jesse McCree/Hanzo Shimada
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-14
Updated: 2018-11-24
Packaged: 2018-12-02 02:16:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 20
Words: 173,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11499660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aku_Maru/pseuds/Aku_Maru
Summary: Alternate timeline. Blackwatch failed to take down the Deadlock Rebels. Sojiro Shimada remains alive. The Shimada Clan, Deadlock Rebels, and Los Muertos aim to make the most powerful criminal alliance the world has ever seen. At least until they start competing against Talon. Hanzo, Jesse and Sombra find themselves in a precarious position when Overwatch attempts to gain unlikely support to combat Talon. And Overwatch takes in more than they bargain for in the process.___The only response was the disgusted spit from McCree. In two quick strides, Reyes had McCree by the collar and slammed a fist into the gunslinger’s jaw. Stunned silence from all in the room. Even Morrison arched an eyebrow at the sudden escalation. Reyes was impervious to it all, fixing the gunslinger with a glare that warned him against trying anything. Jesse worked his jaw, testing his teeth with his tongue. Hanzo saw the man workup to what would be another, but bloodier, spit to the floor. So did Reyes. “Spit again and you’ll be spitting teeth.” McCree settled for a poisonous glare as he swallowed. Definitely a history there that Jesse had never shared.





	1. Into the Dragon's Lair

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Thanks to Blizzard Entertainment and its conglomerate for allowing the use of these fabulous characters. I’ve only created the sandbox in which to play with them.
> 
> Disclaimer 2: I am not fluent in any other language besides English. I try with my limited knowledge of other second languages to use the correct terms and grammar. Forgive me, native speakers. If you see a better term please let me know.

**Chapter One: Into the Dragon’s Lair**

A dismal day blanketed the town of Hanamura. Dark heavy clouds loomed above the skeletal trees. A smattering of chilling raindrops coated the stone in an all consuming gray. To a man accustomed to blinding sun this world was drained of all color. Even the advertisements of yellows and reds felt lackluster amid the gloom. Jesse McCree would give anything to leave this land of washed out monotones. 

It wasn’t his choice to be walking beside crisp suited Japanese men who insisted on wearing sunglasses in this weather. Twenty-three years old and this was his first foray outside the American Southwest. From a land of painted deserts and scorching heat to a drab, wet, and chilly city. McCree tugged the inadequate leather jacket tighter against a blast of unwelcomingly cold wind. No, he would not have chosen to come here. His boss ordered him to go.

He tugged his hat lower as the wind threatened to snatch it from his head. His boss sent him into the heart of Dragon country. He stared up at the massive wooden doors that guarded the entrance of the Shimada castle. Once he stepped passed these, all bets were off. No, he corrected himself. There had been no turning back the moment he stepped foot onto the private plane with a fake passport and a job to do. Jesse knew his position well. He was to be the Deadlock Rebels representative inside the Shimada Clan. In part insurance that both parties would keep their word and in part a willing hostage to keep the other party honest. Similarly a ninja was stationed inside Deadlock Gorge. McCree did wonder which one of them got the short end of the stick. 

They entered through a smaller gate into yet another world of gray. The gravel courtyard did nothing to strike his interest. Though the giant bell across the way got a second glance if only for the oddity. The black suited yakuza set a brisk pace along the veranda and through what was probably a garden. Winter had stolen all color.

At the entrance to the actual castle, one yakuza finally spoke. His accented English was difficult for McCree to follow. “You will relinquish your weapons and remove your hat when in the presence of Mr. Shimada. You will address him as _oyabun,_ Mr. Shimada, or sir.”

“Huh?”

The cool and collected yakuza soldier grimaced with a frustrated sigh. “Your weapon.” He pointed to the gun at McCree’s right hip.

It was Jesse’s turn to scowl. He knew this would happen, but it didn’t make him any more pleased. The revolver was empty anyway. He unhooked the holster belt completely to avoid appearing to draw the weapon. “I expect it back.” He glared at the man in front of him. Instinct told Jesse that this would be the last he’d see of his revolver for an unknown period of time. He would just have to play nice and gain some sort of trust with this clan. The soldier started to speak again, but Jesse cut him off. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know. Be respectful. Got it. The hat stays with me.” He tipped the brim for emphasis. 

He was lead into the wooden entrance, which did nothing to add to the scenery void of color. The dark stain blended in with the boring world outside. He caught a glimpse of the large chamber across before being herded down some stairs. In yet another dull unornamented room a soldier pointed to his feet. “You need to remove your boots.”

“What?” This time it was out of confusion, not misunderstanding. Why would he have to take off his boots?

“Your boots,” the soldier repeated slower and clearer, interpreting McCree’s question as the inability of the American to understand accents. “No outside shoes are allowed beyond this point.” The man motioned to a small cabinet of slippers. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Jesse grumbled. He dropped against the wall with a thud, earning him several frowns of disapproval. Well apparently these fellows did not know how hard it was to put on or take off cowboy boots. He liked the boots. They were sturdy and provided good protection against anything his bike kicked up off the road. Yet another stranger collected the boots despite McCree’s protests.

“They will be in your room with the remainder of your belongings.” The soldier guiding him through the process said and pointed to the slippers. 

Rolling his eyes, Jesse stepped into the pair of plain tan footwear. And promptly scowled. His heels over shot the soles by at least two inches. “Got something bigger, pal?”

The only consolation was that none of the three soldiers present were laughing. They also frowned. “I will ask for some to be obtained. For now, _oyabun_ is waiting.” And the journey resumed. Wood. Why was everything made of wood? The empty gray of outside was replaced by the boring brown inside. 

Then finally he mounted the last step and faced the open expanse of what could only be called an audience chamber. In front of some sort of squiggly black artwork knelt seven old men. In front of those was a regal man with just the hint of gray to his black hair. Beside that arrogant bastard, who Jesse bet was Mr. Shimada himself, were two young men. At last the only spot of color in this whole encounter. Bright green. One of those young men leaned around the central figure to take a curious glimpse and his short spiky hair was a brilliant green.

McCree tried to stamp down the sensation that he was facing a firing squad as he was directed to kneel on the provided pillow. His knees were going to kill him when he had to stand up. Grudgingly he complied and removed his broad brimmed hat, placing it before him. This was a long way from the desert and anything familiar. If he made it back he was going to have words with his boss.

“So you’re the one Mr. Hopkins sent.” Mr. Shimada maintained a neutral visage though the white haired old men did not bother hiding their disapproval.

“Name’s McCree.”

“Yes, I know,” Mr. Shimada held up a hand to halt Jesse’s introduction. “Jesse McCree. Your boss said you specialize in sharpshooting. Perhaps we will ask for a demonstration once the weather clears. Though that is a very specialized task. I would hope there is more to you than simply being able to aim well.”

“Well, sir, knowing when to shoot factors into it.” McCree tried to give them a charming smile. He did not stand a chance if they were going to criticize every aspect of him. Apparently no one here felt inclined to give him the benefit of the doubt. Just watching their faces gave them away. Every single one, except perhaps the green haired boy, distrusted him. Well, what was he to expect. Criminals did not trust easily. Much less trust other criminals.

“It does.” Mr. Shimada said as blandly as the rest of the room. “My son, Hanzo, will be responsible for keeping you out of trouble.” The young man to Shimada’s left looked as sour as Jesse felt. His long black hair was similarly tied in a loose tail like his father. He wore the same dull garments as the rest of the crowd but his were so pale blue, Jesse had mistaken them for gray. Hanzo said nothing. Shimada continued on. “Mr. Muro will escort you to your room. When dinner is ready you will join us. Until then, please rest and recover from the long journey.”

“Sure thing,” Jesse quipped to the disapproving gaze of everyone in the room. Well they could all go to hell. He was being respectful. Playing by their rules and everything. McCree thought he heard a hum of disapproval before Shimada waved him away. The disdainful dismissal brought an undisguised scowl of displeasure to Jesse’s face. Still he played nice and followed the suited soldiers out of the audience chamber, listening to the whispers begin. Oh, he had made an impression all right. And not a favorable one. But there was no way to leave any other type when the perfectly manicured old farts had already decided to dislike him.

Jesse did not see much else on the way to this room. He would be lost for days so why bother memorizing the identical drab hallways now. The door opened to a small simple room. A bed pushed up against the window. The window took up the entire exterior wall above the bed. A desk opposed the exterior wall next to the door. And a chest-of-drawers against the wall to his right. Beside the door rested his boots, neatly placed. On the dresser was his pitifully empty duffle bag of belongings. Without his bike this was everything he owned in the world. There were no decorations on the bare white walls. The emptiness of the room matched the dreariness of the world he had just entered. 

Jesse discarded the too small slippers haphazardly next to the boots and collapsed on the bed. Also too small. His head brushed against the wall and his feet pushed against the other wall. Apparently nothing in this country was built for men his size. He shifted a bit to get some comfort before finally dropping his tattered broad brimmed hat over his face. He could hope for a nap to reduce some of his jetlag. 

“So you’re an American Cowboy? Like the movies?” The unexpected voice shocked his half asleep self. 

“Shit!” Jesse jerked back and slammed his head against the wall. His hat fell to his lap as he sat up, rubbing his head where a painful knot was forming. “Where the hell did you come from?” He asked the green haired boy perched on the windowsill. 

“Down there,” the son of Shimada motioned to the ground. With space now open on the bed, he climbed into the room and plucked the hat from where it lay forgotten. “So, are you really an American cowboy like you seem?”

Jesse ignored the boy and leaned out the window. “That’s like three stories up.”

“Four. There is a cellar wall on this end of the castle. I mean you got the boots and the hat. Do you also have a horse and do rope tricks?” The boy placed the leather hat on his head and eyed himself in the reflection of the window.

“But how did you get up here?”

“I climbed,” the boy shrugged as if it were the most natural answer in the world. “Father has men in the hallways and I don’t think he’d appreciate me coming to visit you. But how often do I get a chance to meet a real life cowboy.” The bright green spiky hair was the most notable feature of the young man. He also wore a white and orange uniform that Jesse swore had claws on the feet. The boy removed the hat and offered it back to Jesse, “I’m Genji. Now are you going to answer my questions or not?”

Jesse took the hat baffled by the curiosity and sense of entitlement this kid had. Then again this was a son of Mr. Shimada, leader of the _yakuza_ clan. So of course the kid would think nothing of breaking and entering a room in the castle. Finally he sighed and stood, stretching the remaining sleep from his body. “What questions?” He dropped the hat on the dresser next to his duffle bag and started to search through the bag’s pockets.

“Are you a actual cowboy?”

“Depends on your definition.” He shrugged and pulled out a packet of cigarettes, still hunting for the lighter. “Don’t work with cattle. But everything else just about fits.”

“So you don’t do any rope tricks?” Genji looked very disappointed. 

“Nope, sorry. Can do gun tricks though. But they didn’t give that back to me yet.” Finally his lighter. With the two necessary items, Jesse took over the position by the wide open window to light up. 

“That means no horse.” Seemed like the disappointment was never ending.

“Nope. Got a bike. Better than a horse I think,” Jesse blew thick white smoke into the rolling dark gray clouds. It felt like a storm was on the way, but this wet weather was hard for Jesse to read. 

Genji sat cross-legged on the bed watching him intently. “What kind of bike? Is it a Harley-Davidson? I hear those are the best.”

“Yup. Customized and everything. They didn’t let me bring it though. Said it wouldn’t fit on the plane.”

“Damn and I was hoping to go for a ride. Well, we’ll just have to see about getting it shipped here. Or get you a new one.”

Jesse shrugged. Both would be acceptable but somehow he doubted either would happen. He had lost his freedom when the Boss shipped him across the sea to this weird ass country. “Whatever works. It would be nice to have it back.” He took a final drag on the cigarette before snuffing it on the metal frame of the window and tossing the butt into the grass below.

“You know, if you keep doing that, the gardeners are going to be pissed.” Genji remarked, a smirk forming on his lips.

“No ashtray.” Jesse retorted somewhere between annoyed and amused. 

That got the young ninja laughing brightly. “Then I will definitely find you one. And when it’s time for dinner I am making sure you sit next to me. You are the most interesting thing that’s happened here in years.”

“Well that’s grand and all, but I’m not exactly here for your entertainment.” 

“No, you’re not. But we can at least have some fun while you’re here.” Genji grinned and motioned for the American to move away from the window. “I’ll see you tonight.” He added as perched in the window. He backed out and Jesse watched the young green haired ninja scale the wall. It was impressive. It was something out of the movies. Yup, this was one strange world. 

{}}}}{{{{}

Hanzo sat quietly between his father and brother. His uncles and cousins joined them in the grand hall. Dinner was a time of business. Anything that had not been achieved during the day was discussed over the meal. Having the stranger from the newly allied Deadlock Rebels biker gang present was the business of the night. No one expressed it directly, but all were studying the man named Jesse McCree.

The elder Shimada brother was not impressed with the cowboy. The wide brim tattered leather hat could indicate nothing else. Said hat rested to McCree’s left, exposing the messy brown hair. Said man sat cross-legged behind the small portable table with the evening meal. The general murmuring of conversation was punctuated by the laughter of Genji and McCree. Genji was trying to teach the American how to use chopsticks. 

It was mostly failures on the cowboy’s part. He good-naturedly laughed it off. “You know we can get you a fork.” Genji laughed. This was one of the few dinners the younger Shimada brother had attended. Usually he had vanished into the town either to visit the arcade or some one-night stand. Tonight his choice of entertainment was sharing in the amusement of watching the thin wooden sticks slip through thick clumsy fingers. 

“I’m going to be here for the long haul. Might as well learn, right?” McCree chuckled. A tiny bit of frustration bleed through the man’s cheerful demeanor. Hanzo could not place whether it was because of the chopsticks or the thought of being in Hanamura ‘for the long haul.’ Clearly the American was not thrilled with his position. That much was clear from the reports their wakaishu gave regarding McCree’s behavior on the trip from plane to the initial meeting. Those foot soldiers described a sullen young man that reluctantly complied with their directions. 

Genji rudely called out to one of the attendants. Of course this was in Japanese. _“Oi, Kaito-kun, go get the children’s chopsticks. This will be good.”_ The young man darted off to comply. Returning to English to continue, he told McCree, “We’ll get you something to help. Not as easy as a fork but you’ll get the hang of it quicker with them.” It wasn’t long before Kaito returned with neon green plastic chopsticks connected with a flexible curve to keep them in the proper position. These had pictures of one of Genji’s favorite T.V. show characters. Hanzo could only remember it as a fighting show. By that time he was spending more time training with his father than idling in front of a T.V. screen. The two laughed when they saw the contraption. McCree gamely attempted to use them, ignoring how ridiculous he looked to the rest of the men.

His father, who had been silently listening to the chatter around them, asked softly, _“What are you thoughts?”_ It was clearly directed to Hanzo as he was the only one close enough to hear. Sojiro’s younger brother Shinya was in conversation with his own adult son, Yasuo.

Hanzo glanced over at the oversized American managing to scoop some rice with the children’s training chopsticks. _“Very little about him can be hidden. Though he is clumsy in this endeavor, he shows a wariness about him that only comes from constant vigilance. He carries himself careful of his right hip, obviously his side for a weapon. Considering everything about him, a pistol of some sort. He watches us with concern that we will execute him for any small reason.”_

The _oyabun_ nodded and sipped his sake. _“Considering you were not told anything about his weaponry, I am impressed. It is a revolver. Old fashion in style. And he is not completely wrong to be wary. This is a new situation for us. He is an example of the gang and though we know their reputation we do not know how they will respond to our attempts at friendly terms. Before now we have only been rivals. Times are changing to the point where we should be concerned about other organizations.”_

With a puzzled look to his father, Hanzo paused trying to understand what organization the man could be referring to. If his father would not name such an organization at dinner then it was not a conversation for now. Hanzo was not aware of any other underground organization that could rival them in trafficking illegal goods. Apparently Sojiro saw a shift in the current black markets. Hanzo nodded, accepting that he would learn the details at another time. Tonight the order of business was the Deadlock Rebels. 

_“And our own man within their ranks? Do you expect similar treatment for him?”_ Hanzo asked instead.

_“He is aware of the risks. They are an unpredictable bunch but I suspect Taizo-san will preform admirably. He has already informed us that their leader is not nearly as controlling in many aspects of the gang’s life. He is more attuned with the business. I believe what we have here is a common soldier rather than an elite. What does that show?”_ Sojiro eyed Hanzo expectantly. A test to see how wise Hanzo was to unintended messages sent by men’s choices.

_“They do not trust us. Which is to be expected considering the newness of the offer. They also do not want the inner secrets of their dealings to be revealed to us. Anything we could obtain from this man could be obtained by Taizo-san in the field. Our man will perhaps learn more because they do not realize his full talents. But that is not the goal of this exchange.”_

_“No. It is not the goal. Simply a consequence. We each have buyers across the world and the regulations are getting tighter. This is a sharing of information to make our dealings run smoother with less interference from law enforcements. And since we are not entirely mutually exclusive we have expanded our markets as well.”_

_“I recall that some buyers expressed disappointment that we did not traffic in their desires.”_ Hanzo thought back to a few deals he had been present for. The requested items were not ones the Shimada Clan would ever touch out of a certain distaste for the practice.

_“Precisely. Where we do not offer those goods or services, others will. We can at least direct them to friendly organizations. With a finders fee included.”_ Sojiro was nothing if not a ruthless businessman. The opening of new markets and a consolidating of current powers against emerging ones kept his hold on the black markets. 

Again their eyes trailed back to the activity next to them. The two cheerful young men were talking about types of favorite food. _“They seem to get along.”_

_“For now there is no difficultly in allowing him to enjoy, shall we call this a cultural exchange?”_

_“For now?”_

Sojiro returned his undivided attention to the remainder of his dinner. _“For now he is too impulsive. Should he wish to go abroad, there will be difficulty in containing his knowledge and behavior. At least here he may continue as he pleases. Perhaps his association with the cowboy will keep him occupied.”_

_“I will ensure they stay out of trouble.”_ Hanzo promised. He can’t say he was pleased with his position as the responsible party, but he would preform to the best of his abilities. How difficult would it be to allow Genji to keep the American biker occupied until they had a better feel for how dangerous the man truly was. 

}{{{}}}{

Far more than anyone was comfortable with. At Genji’s urging the next clear day, two weeks after the American’s arrival, they staged a shooting display. At their archery range they made alterations to handle bullets. It was held there rather than an interior shooting range because many of the family wished to watch. Jesse McCree did not disappoint.

Once the Deadlock Rebel had his revolver in hand his demeanor changed dramatically. He became more confident, something Hanzo had not thought possible. His grin became wider and an excited gleam entered his eye. Though they were behind a barrier designed to stop high-powered projectiles, many in the stands felt uneasy about allowing this predator a weapon. Hanzo sat beside his father and Genji and felt the apprehension well within his father. Genji was bursting with excitement. 

“I ain’t been part of an exhibition shoot out before,” McCree grinned and tipped his hat towards the audience. “But I’m happy to oblige.” He started spinning his revolver around his trigger finger purely out of self-indulgence. Such tricks were passed over in favor of actual skill. Except for Genji. Such showmanship earned his approval.

_“At least he can do something worthy of a cowboy from the movies!”_ The young ninja nudged Hanzo in the ribs. 

_“Yes, but can he actually shoot?”_ Hanzo asked playfully teasing his brother for his enthusiasm. While McCree had been spinning his six-shooter the attendants set up the targets. Shimada had deemed thirty shots a worthy demonstration of skill. Five fully loaded attempts to make an impression. The first six shots were to the stationary targets, a simple warm up. Each one striking the dead center of the bullseye. Suitable for someone who claimed to be a marksman. 

“Alright. Toss ‘em.” McCree called to the attendants. Clay disks, the type used in skeet, arced neatly overhead. Each red ceramic circle shattered with a single shot. Twelve shots down. Before the gunslinger had finished reloading six more disks launched into the air. These were irregular shapes and flew less predictable arches. All six targets were hurled at the same time, different heights and different speeds. Five oblong ceramics shattered in quick succession. The last soared over McCree’s head and Hanzo thought for a moment that the cowboy had lost sight of the target. But before it was a meter above the ground the man turned lightning fast and shot the remaining disk into dust. Eighteen shots done. 

McCree reloaded while turning back to the main yard. A large metal disk flashed in the air. When it reached the zenith a gunshot flicked it back into an ascent. It tumbled erratically reflecting the sun in blinding white flashes. Again a bullet knocked the silver disk higher. Four more shots to kept the metal aloft. Twenty-four. The cowboy watched as the disk flipped and spun in the descent as he locked the last six bullets into place. 

When the target was roughly chest height, McCree fanned the hammer to his six-shooter and unleashed the entirety of the gun into the metal plate. It hovered briefly in response to the rapid gunfire before finally clattering to the dirt. Hanzo took a moment to admire the ripples in the energy shield as it blocked the small deluge of bullets. 

McCree spun his revolver so he could blow over the tip of the barrel in an over the top nod to the great showmen of the past. Polite applause accompanied the finale. Genji surged forward proclaiming, “Now that is something expected from a cowboy!”

Their father was slower to rise. Hanzo already knew his thoughts before he voiced them. _“Dangerous.”_ The elder son agreed. The marksmanship of this gunman was superb. It was both an honor that the Deadlock Rebels sent such an accomplished sharpshooter to serve with them and a warning of what they could do should they be crossed. Together father and son joined the enthusiastic green haired young man on the field. 

Genji was handling the revolver as if he had never seen one before. “And you did all that with just this? It’s not even automatic. What do they call it… Single action. Impressive.”

“Indeed it is,” Sojiro agreed mildly. Almost immediately the American stiffened and a scowl threatened to dispel the pleased expression from Genji’s praise. He seemed to sense that the leader of the Shimada Clan would not bring good news. “It must have taken many years to achieve this level of skill.”

“I’ve always had good aim. Just needed someone to trust it enough to let it get better,” McCree gave a polite nod.

Sojiro stood with his hands neatly tucked in his sleeves, face unreadable to most everyone. Hanzo knew the look of caution as if his father was about to handle a venomous snake. “I see. Well, as you have seen weapons in my home are strictly regulated. Though I am certain that with proper time and supervision we can ensure your skills do not languish. I hope you can understand the necessity of such precautions.” 

The cowboy’s dark glare returned. The cheerfulness from the exhibition was gone. “Yes, sir,” he roughly grabbed his revolver from Genji and with a practiced hand closed the chamber and shoved it into his holster. Annoyance radiated from the man as he thrust the weapon behind him for the expected soldier. “I understand perfectly.” What McCree did not see as his gaze was directed towards Shimada was the reverence with which the officer handled the handgun. As battered and inferior as the old fashioned revolver was, the same care and respect was given to it as if it was the Emperor’s own sword. They understood that this piece was Jesse McCree’s prized possession and source of protection and would go out of their way to ensure it remained pristine. 

His brother could not be clueless as to why they were denying the Deadlock Rebel his gun. Even if he were the only person present not capable of stone cold murder, Genji understood the dangers the American presented. Instead of commenting on it and directly challenging his father, the green haired ninja tugged at McCree’s black leather jacket. “Come on, let’s see if you can beat my high score on Gunslinger Stratos 4.” Though the young man was incessant with his upbeat grin, he did wait until his father dismissed them. Wordlessly McCree tipped his brown leather hat in acknowledgement before strolling off with Genji. The cowboy was no longer eager to brag about his skills but Hanzo saw the tension easing as McCree chatted with the irrepressible ninja.

Hanzo motioned for the attendant cleaning the field to bring the metal disk over to them. He twisted the wrecked piece of thin steel counting the punctures. _“He only missed two,”_ he said after repeatedly counting ten holes.

_“Considering the wildness of his last technique, I am not surprised,”_ Sojiro said, a degree of awe filled his voice. One he would not allow the gunslinger to hear. _“It has been quite some time since I have seen anyone with aim such as that. I am torn as to give him trust in the future or continue to keep him at a distance. He would be a valuable asset to our Clan if we can trust him to use this aim for our benefit.”_

Nodding Hanzo passed the wounded disk back to the attendant. _“As troublesome as it sounds, returning his gun to him will go a long way in securing his trust in us.”_

_“Agreed. But I have not decided that Deadlock doesn’t want us dead. Keep me informed as to this sharpshooter’s behavior.”_ The leader of the Shimada Clan cast a wary eye towards the gate Genji had pulled McCree to. Hanzo gave a shallow bow in understanding. They had invited this rattlesnake into their home and had to take care that it would not bite.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said I'd wait until "Hello, Joel" was further along, but this work has been bugging me since McHanzo Week. I decided to just go ahead and start.
> 
> This is my first relationship fic, McHanzo week was my gateway drug. It is plot centric with side notes of sensual expression. For long time readers of this ship, I hope this does not appear to too similar to what is already out there. I hope to throw a few surprises your way.
> 
> Enjoy! And thanks for reading!


	2. Sharpening Claws

**Chapter Two: Sharpening Claws**

The whirl of a whimsical claw game competed with the blaring base of the dance game. Mixed in were bangs and explosions from the shooters. Add into the mix were squealing tires and revving engines of the racers. To top it all off were the ear-piercing screeches of laughter of encouragement or groans of disappointment. The generic background music to all of this made Jesse’s head ache something fierce. Bright lights and flashing colors normally did not bother him, but today he was not feeling it. 

He put his controller gun back into the game’s holster and watched the graphics depict his death. Over the top screaming and the screen drenched in red. “I’m done for tonight,” he said, walking away. Two months since the exhibition shoot and this was the only gun he was allowed to handle. He was going insane. Yeah, he knew he scared the old bastards. That was the point. Deadlock bosses wanted them scared. Wanted their respect. To prove they weren’t just some outlaw motorcycle gang. 

“It’s still early,” Genji called after him, still trying to decide if he should follow the cowboy or continue his game. Eventually the younger Shimada brother did trail after McCree, definitely disappointed at leaving a game unfinished. 

Outside in the cold evening air and the empty streets, Jesse relished the stillness and silence of the night. Particularly after the onslaught of noise from the arcade. He heard his lighter flare with the simple orange flame and watched each tiny ember glow as he inhaled through the cigarette. He closed his eyes and exhaled the thick stream of smoke. Distant muffled sounds of cars. A clatter of wooden shoes on pavement. The sharp tang of cigarette smoke. Crisp wet wind threatening snow. Not quite the same as a cold desert winter. At least it was quiet. McCree started walking back to the Shimada Castle. He wasn’t really allowed to go anywhere else. Nor did he have the money to spend the night at one of the few bars in town. 

The green haired ninja’s footsteps were nearly imperceptible. Only because Genji had nothing to hide did Jesse even hear them. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m drowning in boredom, that’s what.” McCree saw no reason to hide his issues. 

“But we do stuff every night.”

Jesse stopped and turned to his younger friend. His only friend here in Hanamura, Japan. He shouldn’t blame the guy for being the spoiled rich kid that he was. He knew no different. But sometimes, McCree wanted to strangle him. “I know that.” The cowboy rubbed his face and itched at the thick sideburns he let grow in. “The thing is I miss playing pool. Or poker. Riding my bike through the desert. The arcade is great and all, but it’s too much sometimes.” Jesse finally confessed, frowning as he should know better than to admit to weakness. This was a yakuza brat. As much as he liked the kid, he didn’t know what Genji would report back. He didn’t think anything, but there was no way to be sure. 

Stunned silence on the young man’s face then uproarious laughter. “You’re homesick!”

Jesse rolled his eyes and turned away, focusing his ire on the helpless cigarette. “Like you’d understand,” he muttered, readjusting the horribly useless leather jacket. It couldn’t be his imagination. The winters here were just colder than home. 

“No! No, it’s not like that, McCree.” Genji trotted to keep up. His youthful clean shaven face full of remorse. Jesse wondered if the kid could hide his emotions at all. “I am sorry. I did not intend to insult you. It must be difficult for you. I can’t change father’s mind.” 

“I’m not asking you to.” Jesse shoved his hands into the jacket pockets and scowled at the wind.

Genji tugged at the cowboy’s elbow, completely ignoring the man’s personal space. “Come on, let’s get something to eat.” McCree let himself be pulled away to the Rikimaru Ramen shop. Let Genji order for them. One bowl of noodles was the same as the next as far as Jesse was concerned. Then again so was one greasy hamburger to the next. 

They ate in silence at first. McCree was glad his skills at the chopsticks had vastly improved since the first night. There were still things that were just a bit more difficult than others. Noodles were one of those foods. But he was learning. Mostly by watching. He had learned that bowls were brought closer to the mouth rather than forcing the food to travel the long distance from the table to the mouth. Polite etiquette was still lost to him, but they couldn’t blame him for trying.

“So, you’re going to have to teach me how to play pool,” Genji said half way through the meal. 

McCree raised an eyebrow. “Is there somewhere to play?”

“Not that I am aware. But we can get one for the castle. I’m sure there is a place that father wouldn’t mind me using. I never really liked poker, so this would be something interesting to learn.”

Jesse chuckled. “Let me guess, you always lost at playing poker.”

“Yeah,” Genji shrugged, unconcerned. “Guess I’m no good at bluffing.”

“Not everyone can be. Tell you what, it might be easier to get a dart board first. They aren’t like those throwing stars of yours, but might be enough to keep you entertained.” McCree couldn’t stop the smile that crept up on him when watching Genji light up at the thought. “So is this really all you do?”

The ninja shrugged carelessly. “Most of the time. I train with Hanzo or father. Spend the rest of my time here or the arcade. Sometimes picking up girls at clubs. Nothing too serious.”

“Really? You aren’t part of the family business?”

“Why should I be? Just because I was born to Sojiro Shimada doesn’t mean I want to do what he does. I mean you chose to join the Deadlock Rebels, right?”

“More or less.” It was Jesse’s turn to shrug. They didn’t need to know the full details of that past. “They kind of decide if they want you. Was useful enough to keep around. It just seems strange that you aren’t more involved considering how everyone in your family is.”

“Why would I need to be involved? They are doing just fine on their own.”

“Any chance of me joining you for training?” McCree only brought it up in an effort to do something remotely productive.

Genji chuckled. “I don’t think you could keep up.”

“Hey, give me a chance. I’m not unfamiliar with a fist fight.” Jesse protested jovially. 

“It’s more than a fist fight,” the ninja grinned. “I doubt father would let you join us. Worst thing we can do is ask, right?”

Finished with his bowl, McCree pushed it to the edge of the table. “I suppose. I’d really just like to get some target shooting done. And I ain’t never gone this long without a job before.”

“Thought you were on one? Spying on us.”

“I’m not spying on you,” Jesse defended half heartedly. “Your father was the one to suggest an exchange because he thought the different perspectives of our gangs could be used.”

Genji drained his bowl of the broth and set it next to McCree’s “Fancy words for spying. Why hide the truth? We know it, you know it, your boss knows it.”

“We’re supposed to be allies now.”

“I don’t think it will last. We keep to a higher level of order than your gang. They have a wildness that father is not fond of. Organized crime just wasn’t meant to band together.” Genji’s lack of confidence in his father’s endeavor surprised the American biker. Apparently not everyone in the Shimada Clan was wholly onboard with the leader’s decisions. It was an interesting development. Genji was not alone. A few bikers were not convinced this match up was for the best either. Whatever had caused his boss to join with the yakuza had to be impressive. Tony Hopkins was not a man to be crossed and those naysayers never vocalized their beliefs where he could hear. To listen to Genji openly discuss his father’s failure shocked Jesse. 

“Well, then… Explains a few things,” McCree sat back, adjusting his hat as he thought. “Thanks anyway. Didn’t mean to ruin your night. I’m just going to go back and smoke.” He pushed himself away from the table causing Genji to do the same.

“You sure?”

“Yeah. Don’t let me keep you from having fun. You don’t need to watch me all the time,” Jesse gave a sly grin. “Let someone else do the watchdog work for a change.” 

“Ha! You’re right. Hanzo was put in charge of keeping you out of trouble. Now here I am doing all the work.” Genji laughed good-naturedly. “Alright, McCree. I’ll see you later.” 

“Call me Jesse already.” 

“Very well, Jesse.” The ninja’s grin got even wider. They parted ways at the entrance to the ramen shop. The cowboy already had another cigarette in his mouth as they waved. Green hair disappeared back into the arcade. The night was still early. 

It was a good night for a bottle of whiskey. Hell, he’d even take beer right now. Why be picky when there was nothing to be had anyway. He found an isolated spot on the castle grounds where he could watch the glittering lights of the city below. While on the streets of Hanamura it was hard to recall that a massive sea of twinkling lights were at the base of the mountain. It was mesmerizing. Not as good as the stars in a wide open sky, but a good substitute until he got back.

{}}}}{{{{}

As Hanzo padded along the veranda connecting the dojo to the main castle, he heard a constant yet irregular sharp clicking. It was early in the morning, a bright winter sun blinding him as he stepped through the garden gate. Sitting against the stonewall, hat creased where his head touched the barrier was the cowboy, Jesse McCree. The clicking came from the pebbles McCree threw at one of four bricks sitting on a wooden bench about six meters from him. The biker tossed them lazily and each struck the bricks, causing a different dull ring to disturb the peaceful morning.

A frown quickly formed out of annoyance. “Don’t you have anything better to do?” This was not the first time he had seen McCree loitering in various places in the garden. The ubiquitous cigarette dangling from his mouth. Now thick brown sideburns joined the wild hair currently tucked under the tan leather hat. 

“Nope.” McCree did not even glance in Hanzo’s direction. Irritating the Shimada heir even further. He continued to throw rocks against the bricks at various speeds and intervals. He did readjust the black leather jacket, tattered at the seams and edges of the patches. Hanzo had no idea what most of those emblems meant, if anything more than decoration. The biker tugged his jacket closer when a blast of chill wind entered the alcove. 

Frown deepening, Hanzo wondered if this desert dwelling American had brought another coat better suited for winter. Highly unlikely as the only set of clothing the ninja had seen the cowboy in were worn blue jeans, various tshirts and the tattered leather jacket. Why was the man not prepared for changes in the weather? Even the deserts of the American Southwest froze in winter. He would have to investigate later. 

A quick glance showed him three _wakaishou_ monitoring the area. The sharpshooter would not be able to cause trouble with those watchers. For now Hanzo had to clean up from his morning training session. He spared the American a disdainful look that was never seen. If all Deadlock Rebels wasted time with such useless activities, it was a wonder anything got done.

Hanzo readjusted the sword at his waist and left the cowboy alone. Arguing now would make him late. He trotted back down the veranda towards the main building and his room. His father waited for him. While the leader of the Shimada Clan usually attended Hanzo’s training sessions, today he was occupied with a sudden business matter. Hanzo was certain he would learn the details once he joined his father for those meetings. 

Upon entering his room, his first order of business was securing his sword in its display stand next to his Storm Bow. His father did not approve of him carrying such large weapons around the castle when a full contingent of foot soldiers was present to watch over them. The smaller weapons such as knives and shurikens that could be hidden on his person were acceptable. Those joined the sword on the top of his dresser. There was no specific place for them and the blades clattered onto the wood carelessly. 

The rest of his room was a mix of traditional Japanese decoration and simplicity along side the convenience of modern Western furniture. Hanzo tossed his white and orange training uniform into the hamper and headed into his private bath. Only four rooms in the castle had this privilege. His father’s, his own, and two guest rooms. Many times the guest rooms were occupied by his father’s brothers and their wives. He had the privilege as being the heir to the Clan. As such it was expected for him to be presentable at all possible times. 

The shower itself was brief. Dressing in the traditional style clothing his father preferred took the majority of the remaining time Hanzo had. He was supposed to meet his father at ten and it was already half past nine. The meeting room was back on ground level in the public access portion of the building. 

During the early spring they opened its gates to allow the tourists to view their well-tended cherry blossoms. They allowed various ceremonies to use their traditional architecture. Even had an agency to give tours of the public areas of the castle for the historically curious. It was just something Hanzo had grown up with. Just like the _Maiko_ that graced the streets or the priests in the temples, Hanamura Castle gave a small window into the past of Medieval Japan. His family was part of that. 

A passing thought ruined his focus. What were they to do with the leather clad American cowboy when tourist season began? They would just have to make that decision when it came time. The man was already a nuisance with nothing to do. When Genji hadn’t stolen him, the sharpshooter lounged in various parts of the gardens throwing rocks at the brick or inside on particularly dismal days tossing cards into his overturned hat. Beyond the impressive exhibition shootout, Jesse McCree had done nothing useful within their organization. Hanzo himself wondered what his father was thinking in keeping this layabout and what his plan was. 

Hanzo knocked on the frame of the shoji doors at the meeting hall. _“Enter.”_ The _oyabun_ called and Hanzo slipped inside to find his father alone sipping tea and reading a newspaper on a holographic device. _“Good morning, Hanzo. How was training with Shinya?”_ Sojiro glanced at his eldest son. 

_“Uniquely satisfying. Uncle Shinya is quick on his feet.”_ Hanzo answered as he knelt across from the small table that held his father’s tea.

 _“That he is,”_ Sojiro set down his holographic newspaper and gave his attention to his son. _“It is good you have the opportunity to train with him. His speed has always caused me the most trouble. His endurance was lacking as we trained. I understand you have improved upon that aspect.”_

 _“I would like to think so. It will take more training before I am comfortable in saying I have improved in either speed or endurance.”_ Hanzo paused, not particularly interested in discussing his training. _“You mentioned concern of a change in the underground markets as prompting your decision to seek an alliance with the Deadlock Rebels. What change were you referring to?”_

 _“Direct as always.”_ The oyabun pursed his lips in thought. _“Come with me. I think it will be more beneficial for you to see for yourself.”_ Hanzo followed his father through the halls to the back of the house where modernity was not disguised. They entered the technology wing. There they had family members and trusted officers monitored their security systems and researched opportunities or threats to the Clan. _“Hiroshi, pull up the video Mr. Hopkins sent us.”_ Hanzo looked at his father sharply at this statement. He watched his cousin manipulate the computer screens until a surveillance video filled the largest monitor.

He watched carefully as the video started to play. The camera lobbed lazily indicating it was a flying drone forced to fight against a prevailing wind. That wind whipped the coats of the men meeting in an empty parking lot. There was no sound but the two men in the frame were talking. One, a tall potbellied white man in a baseball cap held out a briefcase, which he opened to reveal cash. The other man was shorter and of Asian origin. He wore a crisp black suit. When he turned to motion to someone off camera, Hanzo could pinpoint his origin to Southeast Asia. Grunts also Asian in origin moved large crates over to the American’s side. One was opened to show off high-powered guns. The first Asian official collected the briefcase of money and the American sent his grunts to collect the cases of weapons. With the exchange complete, the video ended.

 _“What did you see?”_ The leader of the Shimada Clan tilted his head towards his son expectantly. The first image of the video came back onto the screen.

Hanzo pointed to the American. _“I recognize him as Aaron Jefferson. A leader of an East Coast drug dealing gang set deep in the Appalachian Mountains. He is a known affiliate with Deadlock Rebels. But I don’t recognize this man. He is neither Japanese, Korean, nor Chinese. I would place him from Thailand or Vietnam. At least from that region. The exchange of cash for weapons is concerning. If Jefferson is not purchasing from Deadlock, where is he purchasing from.”_

Sojiro nodded. _“Indeed. Mr. Hopkins sent me this video several months ago demanding to know why I was encroaching upon his territory. Since Americans are not particularly good at identifying Asians by country, it is understandable that he believed this was one of our representatives. We did our own research on the matter, knowing that it was not one of ours. The trouble is we cannot identify this representative. I sent Taizo-san to Deadlock Gorge with the offer to cooperate to discover who is disrupting the current markets. I decided this alliance would be for the best. If they could disrupt the Deadlock Rebels, they could disrupt us. Taizo-san is researching within Deadlock as they seem to be the first target.”_

 _“Then it does not appear McCree is fully aware of the reasons he is here.”_ Hanzo frowned at the video.

 _“Actually I think he is fully aware of the situation.”_ The oyabun motioned for them to leave the technology room. Sojiro meandered towards the kitchen. _“The problem is very few people in Deadlock are capable of the discipline required for research. They are brash in general. From watching this particular biker, I believe he is one of the less impulsive and more disciplined of the gang. Otherwise how would he become such an excellent sharpshooter?”_ Within the kitchen, Sojiro pulled the required materials to make tea. Hanzo took over the task quickly as he listened to his father.

 _“You believe he is capable of identifying these unknown threats?”_ Hanzo asked as he scooped tealeaves into perforated insert of the porcelain teapot. A detailed blue dragon snaked around the fat belly of the white pot. 

_“Perhaps.”_ Shimada settled at the bar as they waited for the water to heat. _“There is also the possibility that Deadlock still believes that person in the video was one of ours and is waiting for the opportunity to retaliate. They are that unpredictable.”_

_“Who took the video?”_

Sojiro smiled, pleased by the question. _“That was quite a surprise. And an excellent point. You are starting to think critically about the circumstances. Los Muertos provided the video to Deadlock. I have not learned the full details of that exchange, but it seems both gangs had dealings with Jefferson and were concerned about a new party.”_

Pouring the boiling water into the teapot, Hanzo considered this development. Who could be bold enough to encroach upon the territory of two violent and prominent players in the Americas? As they waited for the tea to brew, Hanzo speculated, _“Los Muertos is not as far reaching as the Deadlock Rebels. They are more opportunistic in their collection of goods. Drugs seem to be their staple. They must have sent it to Deadlock in an effort to incite the bikers into a rage, whether to attack Jefferson or the new organization it is hard to say.”_

 _“Jefferson is still in business, but thanks to Los Muertos sharing that video he is under threat of gang warfare should he spend his money somewhere else besides the two established relationships.”_ His father clarified the current position of the gangs. Hanzo nodded, accepting the knowledge even as his mind continued to search for the identity of the unknown party. He poured the tea and offered the first cup to his father.

Settling in a barstool next to his father, Hanzo sipped the green tea in silence. There were many possible paths they could take. Choosing which one needed careful planning and research. Obviously his father was already on track to learn the identity of the interloper. Hanzo would learn more as his father learned more. But perhaps they needed a more aggressive investigation before their own Clan suffered from a disruption with their business partners. _“Father,”_ Hanzo set his cup down to turn to the older Shimada. _“I would like to incorporate McCree into our operation more fully. But that will involve a bit more investment than we are currently providing.”_

The oyabun nodded and sipped his tea. _“Take the resources you need. And keep me informed as to the results. I am interested in how the American adapts to our structure.”_ After a pause as both enjoyed the peace, Sojiro stated, _“Ah, we managed to get off track. I had originally wanted to speak to you about tomorrow night. The politician’s gala is taking place next week and I will be taking my brothers. We are leaving tomorrow. I trust you can keep the castle in one piece while we are away?”_

 _“Of course, father,”_ Hanzo rolled his eyes in mock annoyance. _“It will not be any more difficult than the other times you travel. I will make sure Genji stays out of trouble as always.”_

 _“I know you will. You handle the household well.”_ His father’s praise filled Hanzo with a sense of accomplishment. It was rare. And cherished. Most of his encounters with his father involved business and lectures. These teaching moments had become less often as Hanzo took on more responsibilities within the Clan. As the heir to his father’s legacy, Hanzo felt the weight of the expectations. Many times he secretly harbored resentment towards his brother for being free of these burdens. Today he felt prepared for the future and ready to take on his father’s role. 

}{{{}}}{

It was two days after his father left to provide support for whichever politician he had in his pocket this time. Hanzo did not look forward to that sort of public appearances once he became leader of the Shimada Clan. Tonight he was eating dinner alone in the private dining room next to the kitchen. With most of the family gone to the gala or to their own residences, Hanzo was left to do as he wished. Genji nearly always did. He glanced up in mild surprise when one of the kitchen staff directed Jesse McCree into the dining room and proceeded to set down the stew, rice, and winter vegetables that constituted dinner. 

The American sat heavily in the chair and scowled at the chopsticks. Apparently even with all the practice, he was not fond of the utensils. Still he said nothing as he started to eat. Hanzo frowned when the man refused to remove the ugly leather hat while he ate. The elder Shimada brother sighed and resumed his meal. There could be many reasons why the cowboy was not hanging around with Genji like he usually did. First and foremost was the possibility that Genji had vanished before McCree had realized it was dinnertime. 

Several minutes in McCree broke the peaceful silence. “So, where’s Genji?”

Hanzo shrugged and kept his attention primarily on the food. “If he is doing what he is supposed to, he is studying. But it is far more likely he is gallivanting in the city.”

“Studying?” The biker asked as if the word was unfamiliar to him. Without a concrete reason, this alone annoyed Hanzo.

“Yes, studying.” Hanzo dug his chopsticks into the rice with frustration. “Father insisted we attend college. Genji is supposed to be attending classes. Though considering his lack of interest in such activities, his grades are nothing to be impressed with. He likely would have dropped out if it weren’t for father’s continued pressure to finish a degree.” 

McCree took several bites with a look that indicated he was impressed. “So, what does the son of a yakuza boss get a degree in?”

“I would not know what Genji is pursuing, if anything. I graduated Tokyo University with a business degree.” Hanzo stated blandly. That degree had not taught him anything his father and uncles had not already educated him on.

“Oh.” The single word response from the cowboy made Hanzo glance up at his dining companion. The biker’s brow furrowed in thoughts that could not be pleasant. He put all his attention in the rice bowl he was destroying with the chopsticks. The American did not take a single bite in the few minutes the ninja studied him. Something about the conversation bothered him. Hanzo tried to identify the reason and decided that since they were discussing education that McCree must not have the same level of education as even the lowest level foot soldier. He certainly appeared uncomfortable enough to be embarrassed when confronted with the fact that Hanzo and Genji were college educated. 

Of everything Hanzo knew about the American, he suspected the man had dropped out of high school. If he had ever attended. There were still places in America that had not fully rebuilt after the Omnic crisis. Small towns like Deadlock Gorge were among the hardest hit. Hanzo knew from his research into the area that most people there never graduated high school. It made collecting gang members simpler. It also made those gang members more reliant on knowledgeable leaders. 

The elder Shimada brother released a heavy sigh and returned to his meal. His plan would take more effort than he had originally thought. “It does not matter if you did not complete even high school. You are skillful in other matters. If you’d like, we can engage a tutor to satisfy your needs.”

“Naw,” McCree waved away the comment with his massive hand. It was rough and scarred. Odd how it took until now for Hanzo to realize those details. “That ain’t necessary. I don’t need to put you out or anything.”

“Put out?” Hanzo puzzled over the phrase for a moment. Given the context he could mostly make out what McCree meant. It was definitely not a standard phrase in English. “It is not any additional trouble. We have already asked for a tutor to teach you Japanese.” McCree tried to protest but stopped suddenly at the intense glare Hanzo gave him. “You are here for the foreseeable future. It will benefit you to learn and I have already received father’s approval. The tutor will arrive in two days. You will begin then.”

McCree dropped his utensils to the table with a small clatter, pushed back his chair causing rough protest of wood on tile. “You didn’t think to ask me what I wanted?”

“You have been here for the better part of three months. Your time has been spent either carousing with Genji at the arcade or idling away in the garden throwing stones against bricks. There are better uses for your time.” Hanzo stated firmly, refusing to back down.

“That’s because you guys won’t let me do anything.” McCree returned more aggressively. Apparently the frustration at being confined was about to explode. “Every time I try, they send me back to those gardens or my room. Kinda hard to do anything when they think I’m spying on them.”

“Attempting to get into secure areas will not help that assumption.”

“Well excuse me. It’s not like I got a tour of where I can or can’t go.”

“It was implied that you would only frequent the areas that you had previously been shown.”

“Right. Because you guys made that perfectly clear.”

“Perhaps if you had the social skills of a human being understanding limitations would not be so difficult for you.” Hanzo set his chopsticks down firmly as he became invested in the argument. As he glared at the cowboy in the black leather jacket, Hanzo saw a change in the man’s demeanor. The American’s eyes narrowed and he tipped his hat further forward to cast a shadow over his square set face. His jaw locked almost imperceptibly as he choose stubbornness over conversation. The sideburns only accented that expression.

“Hate to burst your bubble,” McCree’s voice was low and irritated. It was the type of voice that started barroom brawls after too much beer. “But not everyone grows up in a castle on a hill nor are they all handed keys to the kingdom because of some accidental luck at birth. Now, if you’ll excuse me, Princess, I won’t bother you any more tonight.” The outlaw motorcycle gang member snarled his last words as he stood. 

Hanzo bristled, infuriated with the address and further by the insinuation. In the few precious seconds he warred with himself over refusing to rise to the bait or putting the foreigner in his place, McCree stomped out of sight, thus making any attempt to vent his anger futile.

 _“Guess I cam at a bad time,”_ Genji said from where he leaned against the doorframe.

 _“What do you want, Genji?”_ Hanzo demanded, anger boiling under the surface.

_“Just saw Jesse storm out. What did you say to him?”_

_“Nothing.”_ Hanzo reached out and gripped his chopsticks in an attempt to resume his meal and ignore the incident that just occurred. _“I informed him of the language tutor he will be spending half the day with. And we discussed the merits of education.”_ Genji snorted as Hanzo explained in clipped tones. _“I offered any additional learning he might want.”_

 _“Hanzo,”_ Genji entered the dinning room and took the seat previously occupied by Jesse McCree. _“You do realize that you effectively called him stupid.”_ His younger brother spoke calmly and revealed that he had listened in on more of the conversation than he had initially admitted to.

_“I did no such thing!”_

_“Really?”_ Genji arched his eyebrows skeptically. 

_“I know he is not stupid. If I had thought that he was, I would not have offered the tutor.”_

_“Oh, so now it is offered. Thought you told him to go.”_

_“For Japanese language.”_ Hanzo defended himself desperately. _“He would benefit from knowing the language. I know he is capable of more, hence the offer.”_

 _“And I am sure you said it in an agreeable way.”_ Genji started to pick at the food remaining on the plates from the barely touched meal.

 _“Well, he is not doing anything else,”_ Hanzo spoke sullenly to his bowl of rice.

 _“I wonder why?”_ Genji returned unkindly. _“His bosses drop him into a foreign country in the middle of a den of assassins with hypothetical orders to report back everything and kill us if they think things are going wrong. You know, the same sort of orders we gave Taizo. He also knows that we are fully aware of those hypothetical orders and that father will have him killed the moment he does anything suspicious. We won’t give him his gun. Won’t let him practice. He throws pebbles at bricks to keep his aim. And let me tell you, he’s good. He can toss them hard enough to chip the bricks deeply. He’s trying not to get killed, so of course he’s not doing anything.”_

Hanzo looked up to study his younger brother. The young man had spent the most time with the cowboy. It would make sense he had a better understanding for what went on inside McCree’s mind. _“You don’t seem to have any trouble being friends with him. Despite him being dangerous.”_

 _“He doesn’t act dangerous.”_ Genji shrugged. _“He’s actually a lot of fun to be around. He’d never been to an arcade like this before. And he’s been teaching me darts. Not as easy as they look. And I don’t treat him like an outsider. Give him a chance.”_

Sighing in frustration, Hanzo leaned back in his chair. _“That’s what I am trying to do. It will be easier to work with him if he knew the language. That way he won’t think we’re constantly talking about him.”_

 _“Well, we are constantly talking about him. Once he learns, we’re going to have to be more careful.”_ Genji’s ear-to-ear grin infected Hanzo and he gave a small half smile as he relented. _“We’ll talk to him tomorrow. He’s been told what to do almost every moment he’s been here. He’s not use to it. Let him use the workout room. Set him up with the indoor shooting range. Give him a bit of freedom.”_

 _“I’ll see what I can do.”_ Hanzo agreed. He wondered if he had damaged his attempts to gain McCree as a true ally with this argument. Though thinking back to McCree’s words and actions, Hanzo realized that the biker had retreated before things became physical. He had been restrained enough to not strike out when Hanzo had carelessly insulted him. Of course McCree had retaliated with words. Better words than Hanzo would have expected from a high school dropout. Perhaps his father was correct in assuming that this sharpshooter was not as crass or belligerent as the rest of the Deadlock Rebels.


	3. New Eyes

**Chapter Three: New Eyes**

The rosy hue of cherry blossoms blanketing the landscape greeted them. It was a long anticipated day that never failed to arrive suddenly. The resorts were full and the tours had already begun. The biggest difference was the change in McCree. Per Genji’s suggestions, Hanzo had given the cowboy access to the weight room. The man spent the vast majority of the day there. It was the type of dedication seen only in the most determined fighter or prisoner with nothing else to do. But it kept the foreigner out of the gardens during the tours. Another surprise was the perseverance of the cowboy through the Japanese lessons. Still a beginner, the American was improving at a respectable rate. Hanzo doubted the man would ever loose the thick drawling accent.

Also Hanzo escorted the gunslinger to the indoor shooting range twice a week. Not nearly often enough for McCree’s liking, but it was all Hanzo had time for. He did not trust anyone else with watching over an armed sharpshooter. With access to his gun and as much ammunition as he wished, the American spent hours target shooting. The range was automated to provide a challenge. When McCree finished his practice, he was in a better mood and more willing to relinquish his gun to the bystanding officer. Now that he had assurances that he would be allowed return. The man even tried to engage Hanzo in small talk after these sessions. 

“How do you deal with all these people?” McCree asked as they walked through the bustling afternoon streets. Tourists crowded the numerous venders, blocking much of the path. Spring was the worst time to be a casual resident. The best for those that relied on the tourist money.

“By not venturing out among them.” Hanzo retorted as family of four suddenly crossed their path chasing after the two-year-old child. The ninja simply changed directions to avoid them. McCree had to stop short and his hand went to his hat to keep it from flying away. 

“Seems easier said then done.” The cowboy continued the conversation when he managed to squeeze through a tour group in red caps. Hanzo took the time to study his new companion. The biker had changed the leather jacket out for a black leather vest. This looked even more worn than the jacket. Tattered seams and numerous patches. The Deadlock skull and padlock domineered the back of the vest. Hanzo suspected that the American wore this the majority of the time. The threadbare tshirt advertised some food establishment specializing in burgers. The lettering was so faded and ripped that Hanzo could not clearly read the words. And now that he no longer wore long sleeves, Hanzo saw the Deadlock Rebel’s tattoo clearly on the man’s left forearm. As he was an American the tattoo was not remarked upon and only glanced at with curiosity. Add the gaudy belt buckle and the biker clearly announced to everyone that he was part of a gang.

Instead of returning to the castle Hanzo took a detour down a less crowded alley. McCree followed only because those were his directions. Stay with Hanzo or the trips to the shooting range ceased. The elder Shimada brother did not bother to look behind him as he could hear the loud cowboy boots ring against the paving stones. Even above the general chatter of the crowd. 

The American followed without question for a further distance than Hanzo had expected. By the time he asked, “Where are we going?” the man should have realized that they were heading in the opposite direction of Shimada Castle.

“A detour.” Hanzo’s reply did not satisfy McCree based on the cowboy’s frown, but he did not ask for details. Not even when they stood in front of a clothing store. Hanzo saw the questions on McCree’s face before the man even opened his mouth. “Get clothing that fits. You are now associated with the Shimada family. You will not walk around in ripped and faded attire.”

“What?” The cowboy gaped. Hanzo closed his eyes to give himself a breath of calm so he would not call attention to the cowboy’s idiocy. 

“While I understand that you might not feel comfortable accepting what appears to be a gift, this is merely outfitting someone representing the family in appropriate clothing.” Shimada motioned for McCree to enter the shop. The sharpshooter still stalled at the curb. “What is it then?” Hanzo asked impatiently.

McCree tipped his hat back, giving Hanzo a better look at the square jaw framed by neatly trimmed sideburns and deep set eyes. “Not to make a fuss and all, but when did I become ‘someone representing the family?’”

The ninja did not bother to reply immediately, instead stepped into the store, forcing McCree to follow or to be out of lines and have his shooting range privileges revoked. The sharpshooter joined Hanzo in the shop. “You were assigned to work with us. We may not be quick to make decisions regarding unknown elements, but when we do they are final. As you have met or exceeded expectations over the past few months, the elders agree that it is time we offer your more trust. You cannot blame us for uncertainty when dealing with a former, if distant, rival.”

“Well… alright then…” McCree’s eyebrows rose as the explanation surprised him. “Does that mean I get my revolver back?”

“Patience. We did not grow to be the most powerful family in Asia by acting without caution.” Hanzo crossed his arms over his chest and studied the cowboy’s reaction. He couldn’t help the small smirk that formed in satisfaction to bewilderment. “Now, pick out something that fits.”

“Uh… I don’t know how likely that is going to be…” McCree glanced around the store filled with solid colored shirts, dark slacks, and various shades of khakis. One corner held a bright mixture of prints for neckties. “Uh… don’t you got any blue jeans and tshirts?”

Rolling his eyes at the expected request, Hanzo motioned to the back of the store where the denim was displayed. “You may have the blue jeans, but we refuse to allow tshirts.” McCree grumbled as he clunked passed Hanzo. No words were intelligible, but the ninja understood the sentiment. Resentment at being told what to do and frustration at having to comply or get the limited freedom he had taken away. This rattlesnake was becoming more manageable. Hanzo wondered if this was how wild dogs were first domesticated. He just had to make sure not to let the man get to his breaking point.

After a bit of effort on the store clerk’s part, McCree finally had a pair of blue jeans that fit and were not torn at the knees. He wore a rustic red button down with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and collar unbuttoned to show the white undershirt. In this ensemble the skull and wings belt buckle was even more prominent. Topped with the wide brimmed leather hat, McCree looked more like a cowboy from the movies than before. Hanzo could only shake his head at the absurdity of the image. After all, his only stipulation had been to find clothing that fit.

Turning to the store clerk Hanzo requested, _“Please find another set of jeans and seven more shirts of his size. Add to that undergarments and socks. I would ask you to burn whatever he came in, but I think he would shoot me.”_

_“Quite possible, sir. I would recommend you not destroy his vest. He was very particular about it.”_ The clerk referenced the black leather vest now slung over McCree’s shoulder. The cowboy started walking towards them, prompting the clerk to say, _“I will send this to the castle once it is collected.”_ The man bowed and turned away. 

“Alright, now what?” McCree sauntered over, readjusting his hat.

“Collect your other personal belongings. Leave the clothing. It will be shipped to your room with the rest. Now we can return to the castle.” Hanzo turned away. After a few moments he heard the thud of the cowboy boots following him.

A groan accompanied the heavy footsteps. “Do we have to?” The tone of McCree’s voice caused Hanzo to turn and study the cowboy. Had this tough as nails American biker just whined about returning to the castle?

“What else would you do?” Hanzo arched his eyebrow as he considered the taller man in front of him.

McCree shrugged. “Well, I just never seen a festival like this before. Been to a few arts festivals in Santa Fe… but this seems different.”

“You were just complaining about the crowds not half an hour ago.”

“Yeah, but next time you feel like escorting me to the shooting range, the festival will be over. Might as well look around while I can, right?” The cowboy grinned in an easygoing manner that ignored his dangerous nature.

The elder Shimada brother pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. Genji had chosen this week to fly down to Okinawa and spend the holidays at the beach. Glancing at his watch, Hanzo reluctantly made the decision. “Very well. We may spend a few hours wandering the vendors.” He had after all forced the cowboy into complying with his demands. He could spare an afternoon if it kept the man occupied and continuing to adhere to the rules imposed on him.

Again the massive grin better suited to a child. “Great!” McCree strode out of the shop in a determined stride, forcing Hanzo to trot behind him just to keep up. How was it this man had two separate personalities? Was this the one Genji referred to when his younger brother had said the sharpshooter did not act dangerous? Already the ninja was regretting his decision as he watched an oversized kid gawk at various games or food stalls. For someone who had expressed utter loathing about being in Japan, he certainly figured out how to enjoy himself with a simple Cherry Blossom festival. Hanzo could only wonder about what else this Jesse McCree could hide from them.

{}}}}{{{{}

Hanzo stared up at the blank ceiling as he tried to determine what had woken him from sleep. The night was still after the rainstorm that had washed through the city during dinner. Hanzo had left his window open to take advantage of the cool breeze that followed the storm. Crickets chirped in the gardens, joined by gentle clanking of wind chimes. Then an uncoordinated shuffle followed by a cry of surprise and a thud. In a blur of movement Hanzo had his bow and arrows in hand and was racing along the roofline to find the source of the scuffle.

He crested the tiled roof of the veranda leading out to the gardens and saw a strange sight. Two men in black military style attire were sprawled face down in rock garden, just beyond the inner gate. Inside the gate the Shimada family guards forced Jesse McCree to his knees. A sword to his neck and no less than twelve guns trained on him. The cowboy hat had been knocked to the ground, tipped precariously close to a puddle. 

Lanterns flared to life to give better light to the scene. Hanzo alighted to the ground near the hat to study its owner. McCree knelt in the mud between two anxious guards, unconcerned by the sword at his throat. The heir to the Shimada Clan ignored the respectful greetings from his men. His father’s men. One should have gone to inform his father of this. Hanzo pinned his stare on McCree. “Explain,” he demanded coldly.

To his credit the American biker met his gaze evenly. His words were almost careless, as if he weren’t facing death by a nervous trigger finger. “Couldn’t sleep. When I can’t sleep, I smoke. Saw those fellas snooping about.”

“Ones our own men did not?” Hanzo asked skeptical of the claim.

The cowboy shrugged as best he could with strong arms holding him in place. “Your guys seemed more interested in chasing me down than those two. Came out of one of those upper windows. They don’t move like your guys. Seemed to know your routines, where your guys would look. Got a couple of stones, hit the first, went down no problem. Second was a bit trickier. By then your guys saw me running down the second. Got him in the legs first. Then the head while your guys were training their shots on me. Didn’t see the strangers until they started to turn on the lights.” The American provided answers to almost all possible questions without being prompted. He was willing to cooperate.

Hanzo frowned as he thought. In the middle of the explanation Sojiro Shimada had arrived. He listened intently. Turning to his own men to ask for their explanations. They matched McCree’s very closely. One of the foot soldiers called out from the bodies of the strangers. _“They aren’t ours, oyabun. They look European.”_ Two others were searching the bodies for identification.

“Might I have a look at them, sir?” McCree asked, still nonchalant despite being on his knees with the sword at his throat. The guns had been holstered at the oyabun’s orders.

Sojiro waved back his men. “Let him up.” The Clan leader then motioned to the bodies. “Be my guest.” The swordsman stepped back and sheathed the katana. The other two men also released their hold to allow McCree the freedom to stand. With only a nod of acknowledgement, the cowboy strode to the black clothed bodies. Had this sharpshooter actually killed two men with stones?

Hanzo shouldered his bow and plucked the leather hat from ground to save it from falling further into the puddle. As he mounted the steps to the veranda he studied his father. Still dressed in the sleeping yukata, much like Hanzo himself, Sojiro also wore a thick overcoat. It wasn’t the first time Hanzo caught himself wondering about the health of his father. He was not privy to such things, though he thought he should be. It would have to be a discussion for another time. They had a minor crisis to figure out.

This father’s eyes never left the American even as he asked Hanzo, _“Does he sound credible?”_

_“He does not seem to be hiding any information. I would be curious as to how he saw those men when our own did not. He does keep claiming to have excellent eye sight.”_ Hanzo twisted the tattered leather in his hands as he frowned. Squashing disappointment that the leather was soaked, the older son of Shimada continued. _“He could simply be used to looking for things in ways our people are not. He is from an area that does not have as many lights, so he can discern different shadows better.”_ Hanzo might be grasping at possibilities but it seemed his father recognized the cowboy’s accomplishment.

_“So it would appear,”_ the leader of the clan stifled a cough and kept his eyes glued to the bodies of the intruders.

“What are you looking for?” Hanzo called from where he stood beside his father. They were watching three men, two were _wakaishou_ and one the cowboy, paw through the intruders clothing. 

McCree didn’t stop his search even as he hollered back his answer. “A little silver disk, about the size of a pinky. When he said European, made me think of the goons that raided Deadlock a few years back. The bodies that got left behind had these little disks on them. These fellas don’t have the emblem but the tactics seemed familiar.” McCree paused as he dislodged the deadman’s sock. “Ah! There it is. This one was tricky.” He plucked a small item from the toe of the man’s sock. “They kept them different places. Wrists and hats most common.” The cowboy boots crunched on gravel and splashed through puddles with little care as he approached the clan leader. The American held the chip in the palm of his bare hand for Sojiro to take. He did not attempt to join them on the veranda, nor ask for his hat back, which was still in Hanzo’s hands. 

The ninja narrowed his eyes as he watched his father take the silver disk. “What is it?” The oyabun asked mildly.

“Don’t rightly know, sir. Wasn’t high enough to be told that if the boss ever figured it out. Do know that those folks were Overwatch. Got the symbol on it. Met one of those bastards too." McCree spit to the side in disgust at the memory. "Rumor among the guys say it’s a short range transponder or I.D. tag. Didn’t deal much with tech myself. More of a gun guy.”

“Short range transponder…” Sojiro called a foot soldier over and immediately sent him off with the disk to those that might identify the item. “Thank you, Mr. McCree. I’ll have to inform your boss of your assistance in apprehending these intruders.” Hanzo turned to study his father after these words. Seldom were the times that Sojiro Shimada expressed such respect for foreigners and less still was the gratitude given to this cowboy. This incident had surprised him far more than the exhibition of the sharpshooter. Hanzo wondered if McCree understood how deeply his actions had affected the leader of the Shimada Clan. Hanzo himself was torn between his pervious distrust of the cowboy and the budding interest in the man’s abilities.

“Not a problem, sir. We are supposed to be allies, right?” McCree grinned knowingly. Sojiro nodded once in return before turning away.

The gunslinger hovered at the edge of the veranda for a moment before Hanzo realized he was still holding the cowboy hat. He frowned. “I will admit surprise,” he commented dryly, holding out the ratty broad brimmed hat.

The cowboy took the hat and immediately placed it on his head, completing the look. “Thank ya, kindly,” McCree grinned widely and tipped his hat. It was as if he knew he had won a battle that night. One Hanzo had not realized they had been fighting. With nothing more forthcoming, the cowboy sauntered on his way, lighting a cigarette without a care.

Surprised? Hanzo was impressed. First McCree had taken down two intruders with pebbles while their own men had difficulty aiming in the dark or were chasing after the cowboy. McCree’s claim of good aim held new meaning. Second McCree had remained calm and collected even with a sword and several guns ready to kill him. Third he was confident and knowledgeable about the enemy and didn’t back down when questioned. Not a shred of fear or doubt ever entered the man’s eyes. And to top it off was that grin of his…. McCree knew he had caught their attention as a valuable asset and not simply a masquerading hostage. 

And he was right. This was supposed to be an alliance. The American was still dangerous. He had killed two men and thought nothing of it. It wasn’t unusual within the criminal underworld, but it did merit careful watching. It frustrated Hanzo that McCree proved to be intriguing. The cowboy had learned enough Japanese to hold basic conversations and had even picked up what had been said around him. He was intelligent enough to recognize the difference between the movement of Shimada soldiers and the interlopers. His memory was sharp enough to identify similarities between tonight’s incident and something that happened in Deadlock Gorge years ago. A simple biker gang could not have someone so capable. Did Tony Hopkins know about McCree’s mental faculties or was he only interested in the man’s eyesight and aim?

Either way, Hanzo caught himself mulling over the possibilities should they convince McCree to use those skills for the Shimada criminal empire. Even as he planned those opportunities, he was kicking himself for not recognizing these traits earlier. The careless, clumsy, oversized _Gaijin_ had managed to surprise them all. And it looked like McCree relished that surprise without calling direct attention to it. 

The heir to the Shimada Clan watched as his men cleaned up the bodies of the two Overwatch operatives. He should not be surprised that the United Nations backed law enforcement agency had their eyes on the Clan. He was astonished that the organization had managed to slip past their guards. They had an intense investigation as to how waiting them in the morning.

Hanzo was about to head back to bed when he saw the familiar green hair of his brother flash in the lanterns. _“Looks like I missed something interesting,”_ Genji eyed the bodies being carried away.

_“Where have you been?”_ Hanzo demanded then immediately retracted. _”Never mind. I don’t need to know.”_ He was tired of trying to keep his brother out of trouble. Genji seemed to want nothing to do with the family and was never present when important events took place. 

_”You aren’t going to tell me what happened?”_ Genji kept pace with Hanzo as they headed back to the castle proper. 

_”You were watching otherwise you would not have come down after everything happened. Like always.”_

_”But I didn’t hear what you were saying.”_

Sighing Hanzo relented, catering to his brother yet again. It wasn’t his responsibility to discipline Genji and yet their father did not seem interested in the task either. _“It appears as though Overwatch is spying on us. McCree caught them as they tried to escape. He managed to kill them with what sounds like a stone striking the back of their heads. I’m sure we’ll have more detailed information in the morning once our men have an opportunity to study the bodies and what they might have collected.”_

_“You sound impressed.”_

_“I am not.”_ Hanzo tried to stop the heat from rising in his ears. He was not going to admit that aloud. And definitely not to Genji.

_“Don’t deny it, brother.”_ Genji laughed lightly, draping his arm over his older brother. _“There’s nothing wrong with being impressed. I did say he was good at throwing stones.”_

_“It just means he is more dangerous than we had initially thought. He may have used his talent for our benefit tonight, but what of the future?”_ Hanzo stepped up his pace as if to get away from his brother.

Genji did not relent. _“I saw you holding his hat.”_ Came the impudent goading. 

_“I don’t know what you are talking about.”_ Hanzo felt heat rising in his cheeks. He was not going to allow Genji to put false emotions into his head. He would admit to being impressed under duress, but nothing else. His brother had other plans. 

_“Oooo! It all makes so much sense now!”_ Genji darted forward to block Hanzo’s path on the veranda. Hanzo scowled, not liking the direction his younger brother was taking the conversation. _“Why you rebuffed so many flirting girls at the festivals! Why you were always more interested in male actors! Brother, why didn’t you say anything sooner! You could have been having so much more fun than listening to those stuffy meetings with our uncles.”_

_“Genji!”_ Hanzo reached for his brother, not knowing what he was going to do if he caught the man. The green haired ninja danced away laughing, proving to be elusive. 

_“And you have been spending more time with Jesse! Oh, how could I have missed this!”_ Genji leapt onto the railing of the veranda. He crouched there smiling like a fool. 

_“I escort him to the shooting rage because I do not trust anyone else with the task.”_ Hanzo defended himself desperately. There was nothing else to the story. It was his assigned task to watch the American and ensure he did not cause any trouble. 

Genji leaned forward with his hands gripping the roof tiles, prepared for a quick escape. Hanzo recognized this even as he tried to silence his brother yet again. _“I heard you two wandered around the Cherry Blossom festival not too long ago.”_ Hanzo lunged for his brother and Genji quickly pulled himself to the roof of the veranda laughing the entire time. 

_“Genji! Get back here!”_ Hanzo was two steps behind as he followed his nimble little brother to the roof. Just like the many times he had when they were younger. Chasing after the troublemaker as if he could fix the problem by beating sense into his brother. 

The _wakaishou_ might have glanced up at them, might have rolled their eyes at their childish antics, but they left the sons of Shimada alone as they ran along the roofline and darted through the branches of the massive cherry trees. _“Don’t worry, brother. I won’t judge you. In fact I’m glad for you. You deserve it. I’ll even help!”_

The elder Shimada brother growled in frustration. _“Don’t you dare!”_

_“What was that? I can’t hear you!”_ Genji darted into an open window, promptly slammed it shut and locking it. He gave a comical shrug and unapologetic grin before disappearing further into the castle. 

Sighing heavily, Hanzo picked his way back to ground level and entered the castle through the main entrance. There he paused as he noticed bright red and oversized slippers in the shoe stand, reminding Hanzo that the sharpshooter was still out on the grounds. He closed his eyes and prayed that McCree had not heard anything of that absurd conversation. That what ever alcove the cowboy had gone to smoke in had been far enough from Genji’s goading for Hanzo’s next encounter with the man to occur in peace. 

}{{{}}}{ 

Jesse McCree had narrowly escaped execution. Of that he was certain. The cigarette had never tasted so good as he relished the bitter smoke. Being alive after such a close encounter deserved a stiff drink. Failing that it deserved a cigar. But Jesse had neither, so he focused his adrenaline heightened senses on the cigarette. He was going to have to get a new pack tomorrow. He was about to smoke his last one in an attempt to calm himself down. 

He had gone to the edge of the gardens over looking the city below the mountain. It had become a favorite location as the flickering city lights mimicked the starlight he missed from the desert. 

It had been pure luck that he had seen the black clad men repelling down from the third story window. Simply a case of being in the right place at the right time and glancing in the right direction. His eyes were great, but his luck was debatable. He was not going to deny the result of the incident, but his death had been a very near thing. Mr. Shimada himself had seen the value in McCree’s aim and the cowboy’s commitment to the tenuous alliance. Jesse had wanted a solid foundation within the Shimada Clan and he now had it. 

His boss was in for a doozy of a report as soon as Jesse could find the words to explain everything that had happened. Hopkins finally had the insider in the Shimada Clan that he had been wanting. After a few more months, the Deadlock Rebels might have all the information they needed to expand their enterprise beyond the American Southwest. 

A loud scuffle near the scene of the incident turned Jesse’s head. He was not going to investigate. He had just taken his head off the chopping block. When he heard someone, probably Hanzo judging from the tone, call out Genji’s name, Jesse shrugged and let the brothers argue about whatever had ignited Hanzo’s short fuse. Learning how to swallow the occasional and sometimes careless insults from the elder Shimada brother had taken more self-control than Jesse had ever exerted before in his life. He had been ready to shoot the whole clan after the first insult at the dinner table. But the alliance came first. Boss Hopkins had made that clear. So Jesse swallowed his pride and allowed Hanzo control over their encounters. For now. 

Still, the shorter, well-muscled archer had his moments when he was not so bad. The day of the Cherry Blossom festival, the ninja had seemed almost human. Snickering at some foolish foreigner enjoying the strange sights and sounds of a foreign country. Jesse had caught the man smiling from behind the curtain of long black hair. Yes it was in amusement at Jesse himself, but still the smile was a nice look for the man. One seldom seen if Jesse were to judge Hanzo’s position in the family correctly. The man was next in line to become leader of the Shimada Clan. 

The biker caught himself with a small smile creeping up on him as he thought about that day. He focused on the next drag on his cigarette trying to dispel his memory. Jesse couldn’t get rid of the thought that he wouldn’t be disappointed to see that look on the ninja’s face again. 


	4. Road Trip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the boys learn how to work together.

**Chapter Four: Road Trip**

They were at it again. The room full of middle aged and older Japanese men were arguing at full volume because they did not like the results their underlings presented them with. Hanzo ignored his uncles and cousins in favor of watching the thick white clouds race across the pale blue sky. There were thousands of things he would rather be doing than listening to this useless meeting. Occasional comments regarding Overwatch and the threat they caused or McCree and Deadlock making up the scenario would rise above the others for a brief moment only to be drowned out by someone else.

His father also sat silently at the head of the table, sipping his tea and allowing the other men to ‘discuss’ their options. There were times when allowing these men to vent prevented future more violent disagreements from occurring. But this meeting had gone on for twenty solid minutes of nothing but unproductive yelling. Hanzo would have called them to order by now. Still his father, leader of the Shimada Clan, had not made a move to silence them. He frowned only when he poured the last of the tea from the fat white porcelain pot with the blue painted dragon. When that cup was gone, his voice strong and confident broke through the angry babble.

“The facts are clear. Overwatch operatives entered this castle and attempted to steal information from the servers. They likely did not know not all of our servers are connected. Still they left behind a Trojan virus that Ikeda found while searching for the data that was stolen. He is still attempting to isolate it, is that right, Gaku-san.”

Hanzo’s cousin through a complicated family lineage bobbed his head. He wore a western business suit and was considered responsible for the technology and the IT business front for the family. “Yes, oyabun. Having found the virus does not mean we have been able to destroy it. It does mean we do not have access to the backup servers where it is located until then. So our records are unavailable for research. But it also means our active computer systems are not affected and we may still run business as usual.”

Sojiro pursed his lips as he considered the information. He nodded accepting that the servers would have to be offline for the near future. Should they remain unusable for longer, then he would force the issue. It had only been two days since the incident. “Mr. Hopkins has sent his regards and informed me that Mr. McCree was just doing what he was sent here to do. For the greater benefit of our two organizations. It seems his limited research team discovered that the chips were indeed short-range transmitters and he is willing to share any information that assists in preventing Overwatch from disrupting our business. What have you discovered, Kazuki-san?”

An older man with majority gray hair and wearing traditional attire of dark brown frowned when called on. He was Hanzo’s great uncle, married into the family with his great aunt. Kazuki oversaw most of the infiltration technologies and their own worldwide spy ring. He was careful with is words. “They are more akin to dog tags, oyabun. Yes, they send out a short-range frequency to aid in locating them, but it is not for communication purposes. The two we found act as identification and abbreviated health status. Alive or dead. And they have a simple GPS chip that turns on if the health status switches to dead. Overwatch has not made any overt moves to collect the bodies. There has been some movement in their Blackwatch division, still no one has attempted to breech our walls a second time.”

“And how did they enter in the first place?” Sojiro arched an eyebrow at his uncle. The leader of the Clan respected his family but he had to get the answers to keep them all safe.

“They were likely studying the castle and its grounds for months prior to that night’s invasion. Those videos and other surveillance logs are in the servers currently locked up by the virus. Until those are free our investigation is stalled.” Kazuki halted briefly as he saw Sojiro’s scowl form. Hanzo’s father was not pleased with the information. Bravely the old man pushed through with his answer. “But after interviewing the guards on duty that night and Mr. McCree, I can speculate that this pair used the mountain cliff as their entry point. It is behind most of the guard’s lines of sight. It would have also been their escape route if Mr. McCree had not seen them. That would have forced them to take the quickest exit possible. It appears they might have been running along the roof rather than along the ground. But you would have to ask Tomoji-kun for more details on that.”

All eyes turned toward the young man sitting next to Shinya with the window behind them. It was one of Hanzo’s cousins, a younger brother to Yasuo, recently graduated medical school and working through residency. Tomoji ran a hand nervously through his short black hair before straightening his jacket. He was not accustomed to being in these executive meetings. Nor was he needed often. But because of the bodies, they needed a medical examiner’s professional opinion. “Eh.. well, oyabun, the two Overwatch operatives both have injuries related to a fall. In addition to the fractured base of their skull, which I believe was the cause of their deaths. One had massive facial fractures as if he had fallen face first from at least a second story height. The other showed signs of a dislocated knee. With the bruising around it, it is hard for me to determine if he dislocated in a fall or if, as Mr. McCree said when he was hit with a stone in the knee. Regardless the cause of death does appear to be the significant fracture at the base of their skulls, resulting in internal hemorrhaging.”

“Thank you, Tomoji-kun.” Sojiro nodded politely. It gave them quite a bit to worry about. They had a gunman who could kill without a gun. Silence filled the boardroom on the sixth floor of the Shimada Castle. Unexpectantly, Sojiro stifled a coughing fit. No one said anything as the oyabun struggled to contain it. When he collected his inner peace, the leader of the clan continued the meeting. “Shinya-kun, you brought up an unrelated incident yesterday. Has anything developed on that front?”

“I’m afraid not. Nishimura has not explained how he had gained the connections to the rising Water Dragon gang.” Hanzo’s uncle shrugged as if the information was not important. “He only said that the ‘punks,’ to use his term, were terrorizing him in attempt to gain protection money. Nishimura has asked that we deal with the gang to protect his assets.”

Towards the foot of the table, almost directly opposite the oyabun was another of Hanzo’s great uncles. This one was the youngest brother of Sojiro’s father. Akira snorted in distain. “That’s a bold name for some group of teenagers. Water Dragon Gang, indeed.” He also wore a traditional gray kimono topped with a black haori overcoat. “He probably thought those punks would charge less in protection money. You need to hike up the rate and teach that arrogant businessman a lesson in humility.”

Shinya nodded in agreement. “Yes, but we should at least know for certain if Nishimura invited this new gang or if the gang imposed themselves upon him. Whichever occurred would dictate which actions we take. Oyabun?” All eyes turned to Sojiro. Hanzo watched his father twist his white porcelain cup in thought. His decisions were always well thought out.

“The problem with that, Shinya, is that should we discover that Nishimura invited this Water Dragon Gang and is now backtracking, we will need to eliminate him. But anyone we send to investigate would have to report back to us before we can approve his death. That would delay our dealings with him and make him suspicious. It would also make this new gang suspicious and less likely to show themselves where we could judge their intentions.” Sojiro scowled at the teacup not liking the current possibilities. Those at the table understood the difficulties the clan leader faced. “Whatever we do would have to be swift to prevent any of the involved parties to dive deeper underground.”

Hanzo glanced around the table at the men responsible for guiding the Shimada clan. They considered the problem the only way they knew. And that was with their own men and capabilities. Though he did not speak much during these meetings, Hanzo pressed his advantage as both a young man and as the heir to Shimada. “Oyabun, I believe I have a solution. Many here will not like it, but it will solve many of the obstacles in dealing with Nishimura.” Hanzo respectfully put forward his plan once his father granted him the floor.

}{{{}}}{

Hanzo reluctantly changed into more modern clothing. His long hair was still pulled into a simple tail, but the traditional blue haramaki and kimono was switched with pressed slacks and a silk shirt. He ignored the tie, sticking with the clean lines of the light blue long sleeved shirt and the dark blue, near black pants. These were not clothes he typically wore so when he studied himself in the mirror he frowned. His long hair did not fit the nature of modern clothing, but he would not cut it for this simple mission. He had all the rest of his attire packed. Including his bow and sword. The outing should not take longer than a couple of days at the most. 

Directing the castle staff to pack the luggage and weapons in a car, the heir to the Shimada Clan had a detour of his own to make. He thanked the officer that presented the worn leather holster and the dented revolver before checking to ensure the cambers were empty. Taking the belt and unusually heavy gun, Hanzo turned his feet towards the alcove where the cowboy spent most of his time smoking. He couldn’t wait to see the look on the gunslinger’s face when presented with this outing.

The cowboy leaned his forearms on wooden railing, watching the sprawling city below. Hanzo’s eyes were drawn up to the beautiful purple of Mt. Fuji that provided the backdrop to the whole scene. The out of place cowboy in blue jeans and dark green cotton shirt rolled up at the sleeves. Over top of it all was the hideous Deadlock black leather vest and the brown leather broad brimmed hat. The ever-present cigarette dangled from his fingers as the sharpshooter was lost in thought.

“Here,” Hanzo held the strap of the holster out to the cowboy without preamble. McCree straightened, momentarily stunned by the announcement. He took the revolver skeptically and the cigarette found its way back to the gunslinger’s mouth as he buckled the holster around his waist. Hanzo did not give him much time to savor the moment as the ninja already turned away, calling over his shoulder, “Come with me.”

Heavy boots followed. “Where are we going?” McCree asked hurrying his steps to walk even with Hanzo.

“I’ll explain in the car. Can you drive?”

“Yeah, a motorcycle.”

Hanzo sighed. “That will have to do. Give me your wallet.”

“Why?” McCree asked suspiciously.

Halting in the middle of the massive wooden gate where tour groups were allowed entrance to the gardens, Hanzo held out his hand expectantly. “Your wallet.”

“Look, you’re gonna have to start explaining things before I hand over my wallet.” Though McCree protested, Hanzo knew for a fact that the wallet was practically empty aside from a few yen as a spending allowance for his cigarettes, his passport, and his driver’s license. 

“You have your gun. We are leaving the castle. And I need to see your driver’s license.” Hanzo waited impatiently. He was curious to see how far he could push the sharpshooter.

“Right….” The cowboy dug into his back pocket to retrieve the worn out leather wallet. What was with the man and his leather accessories?

Hanzo flipped it open and studied the New Mexico license. “We’ll have to renew it next year,” he muttered as he tucked two more cards into the billfold. “This will work for now.” He tossed it back to McCree with barely a thought.

“Hey!” McCree protested as he caught the wallet. “Show some respect for other people’s belongings.” Hanzo did not bother to reply. He kept walking towards the garage. 

When the cowboy had caught up to him again, the ninja casually informed him, “The gun is empty by the way.”

“Come on. Seriously. Why give me my gun with no bullets?”

“Because it is going into the trunk of the car with the other weapons and luggage.” Hanzo turned a corner as he answered this question and caught the look of consternation building under the cowboy hat.

“Luggage?”

Hanzo gave a tight-lipped smile as he watched the gunslinger try to put the pieces together. “Don’t worry. I made sure they packed extra cigarettes and a lighter with your duffle bag.” He rounded another corner and opened a metal door into the Shimada carport, revealing at least fifteen different styles of cars and a couple of trucks and SUVs. 

“What the hell is wrong with you? Why am I only just now finding out about this mystery trip?” The hard soles of the cowboy boots echoed in the garage as he trotted to keep up.

Without bothering to turn around, Hanzo explained, “Because I only just decided to go on this mission and only just decided to bring you along. Now, we need to get going.” Hanzo led him to the unremarkable black town car where the attendants were finishing loading the bags into the trunk.

A young driver handed Hanzo the electronic key. _“Everything is ready, young master. Is there anything else you need?”_

 _“I don’t believe so. Thank you.”_ Hanzo glanced at the contents of the trunk. It was everything he had authorized. Even his Storm Bow and arrows were packed neatly along side his katana. “All right, McCree. Time to pack up your gun.” The cowboy was already grumbling about how unfair it all was. Still the holster and gun found their way into McCree’s tattered black duffle bag. Hanzo kept the car key and entered the passenger’s side.

Predictably McCree demanded, “Why am I driving?” from where he stuck his head in through the open driver’s side door.

“Because I say so.”

“You got to be kidding me,” McCree complained as he heaved himself into the small car and fiddled with the seat adjustment controls until the front seat fit his long form. “You do realize I drive on the right side of the road at home,” he frowned at the steering wheel, puzzling over the controls. 

“I know. That is why we are going to drive through town first. So you can adjust to driving here. How difficult is it really to change sides of the road?” Hanzo asked amused as he watched. It did appear that McCree’s Japanese lessons were paying off as he eventually found the start button as well as the shifter. There were a couple of moments of cheerfully dinging alarms and mutters of frustration as McCree could not get the car to reverse. “Seatbelt.” Hanzo supplied.

McCree growled in annoyance and wrenched the belt into place, silencing the alarms. He cast his eyes to the side to glare at Hanzo. “Motorcycle.” The cowboy did reluctantly remove his hat, set it in the seat behind them, in order to better see in the small vehicle. Judging from the increasing scowl, that action only furthered his sour mood.

“I read that you drove semi trucks for Deadlock on occasion.” Hanzo commented lightly, as if he did not notice McCree’s furrowed brow concentrating on not hitting anything as the car finally jerked into motion.

The ninja did not expect the scowl to lessen when McCree thought through his memories. “Haven’t done that in years.” It sounded almost fondly recalled. The movement of the car evened out as the cowboy accustomed himself to driving on the left side of the street. 

“Then I’m sure it won’t take any time at all to remember.” Hanzo sat back and managed to refrain from telling McCree how to drive. He strictly gave turning directions or interpreted the international street signs. Apparently the United States used words along side many of these globally used signs and not having such words made it near impossible for the American to understand them. The ‘Do Not Enter’ sign for one-way streets seemed a particular trouble. After about an hour of twisting through Hanamura and McCree’s confidence in driving in Japan improved, Hanzo said, “I think we are ready to get underway.”

McCree groaned. “Fine. Where are we going anyway?”

“About two hours north of Tokyo.” The face McCree made when biting his lip in an effort not to spout off exactly what was on his mind was reminiscent of a younger petulant Genji when he had no choice in where they went. Hanzo had to commend the man next to him for maintaining a level head despite his frustration. He had wondered how much pushing would be too much. Apparently he had not yet gotten close to the cowboy’s limit. “Don’t worry, we’re making a stop before we reach the toll road.”

“Mind telling me what we’re going to do there?” McCree pressed for an answer. Hanzo debated on what to tell the man. Eventually he decided on the truth. Anything else would only get far too complicated later on.

“One of our associates is having difficulties with a rival gang. We are heading to his villa to survey the damage. And if need be, intervene.”

“A rival gang? Thought Shimada ruled Japan.”

“We do. That does not stop other families and organizations from trying to form.”

“Why are you going?” So even the gunslinger recognized this as a deviation from the norm.

“Because father and I believe our associate is the one inviting the newcomers and now that newcomer is demanding things the associate does not like. He is trying to get us to eliminate the newcomer, possibly eliminating his debt to the newcomer. Now we probably would do this anyway, but we wanted to find out for ourselves how this incident began and if the associate was the one who caused the trouble. And the decision to eliminate an associate is not something anyone other than father can decide. He has left that decision to me. As I will be assuming his position one day.”

“So, this is a test of your decision making abilities?”

“No,” Hanzo watched the cars pass, idly wondering what went on in normal families. “This is a test run of your capabilities.” He glanced over to see McCree turn to stare at him before having to fix his eyes back on the road.

“What!”

“I’m sure you heard me. I know what I will do. I want to know if you can keep up.”

“Well, that settlings that. You and your entire family are insane.”

Hanzo answered dryly, “You have yet to deal with my uncles or cousins. Compared to them, we are perfectly normal.”

“Family of smart-alecks. Wait ‘til Boss hears about that.”

“He won’t believe you. Unless you are referring to Genji, most of the world won’t believe you.”

Several stoplights of silence as McCree processed this information. Out of the blue he asked, “Why aren’t your cars self driving anyway?”

“They can be. But we go places that are not in the GPS databases. Self driving does not work well in some aspects. It keeps a record of your trips. So when we need to be undetected we leave all technology behind and take the cars that can be made invisible. Besides, you have been driving with A.I. assist since the garage. I would not allow you to drive without it.”

“That’s it.” McCree thumped the steering wheel with his right hand to punctuate his exclamation. “We’re getting my motorcycle here one way or another and I’m taking you for an actual ride. No computer assisted or self driving anything.”

Hanzo snorted. “That does not give me incentive to bring the motorcycle over.”

“Have you even been on a motorcycle before?”

“Enough times to know that I do not want to risk my life on one of those.”

“You don’t know what you’re missing. Let me guess, you were on one of those weird ass Suzukis. They’re fine and all for racing, but I’m talking ‘bout cruising.”

“I still hold reservations.”

“I bet you’ll change your mind afterwards.” McCree gave that cocky self-assured grin. His eyes remained on the road, but Hanzo knew his mind was stuck on that motorcycle. 

“I highly doubt that.”

“You’re on.”

“Excuse me?”

“We just made a bet. “

“I never—“

“Can’t take it back now,” McCree interrupted any protest Hanzo tried to form. “Just need a wager. Normally money would be involved, but seeing as how I’m flat broke and you have more than you know what to do with, that won’t be any fun at all.” The cowboy frowned as he tried to come up with a wager for this ridiculous bet he had created. Hanzo was not having any part in it. “About the only thing I have are nights with nothing to do.” Hanzo studied the man beside him. Was he actually serious about this? “That’ll do. We’ll wager nights. Loser does whatever the winner wants no matter how stupid or childish it seems.” That grin returned in full. Apparently this oversized American was serious. Just like the Cherry Blossom festival.

“Why would I agree to something as absurd as that?”

McCree shrugged, that grin never once leaving his face. “Because you have nothing better to do with your time neither. Come on and tell me you didn’t enjoy the festival. Bet you hadn’t been in years and you forgot how much fun it was.”

This caught Hanzo off guard. There was no way the man could know. Unless Genji? No, Genji would not have mentioned any of that. His brother would complain about everything, but he would not speculate about Hanzo’s free time. Had Genji made good on his threat to ‘help’ Hanzo? The ninja hoped not. He did not need his little brother complicating matters.

“Will it shut you up if I agree to this?”

“Probably not.”

Hanzo pinched the bridge of his nose in a frustration he had only felt when dealing with unruly subordinates. Really though, what did he have to loose beside his dignity? And he could always deny whatever emotion McCree was looking for to satisfy his end of the bet. It was a subjective result. It wasn’t like betting on a factual occurrence such as a flip of a coin or a toss of the dice. Hanzo spared another glance at the sharpshooter. That wide confident grin still plastered on his face. It was as if he knew victory was his. Did the man ever calculate failure into his plans? Highly unlikely.

“Within reason,” Hanzo finally said, immediately regretting his decision. But he was not going to back down, still the whole situation felt horribly off kilter. “I reserve the right to refuse anything overtly deadly or too intrusive to my personal space.”

“Deal!” McCree reached across his lap with his right hand, left maintained a grip on the wheel. He also kept his eyes on the road save for one cheerful glance over his left shoulder. “Shake on it.”

Hanzo twisted awkwardly to grip McCree’s right hand with his own right hand to settle the deal. Then he had a gut-wrenching thought. “You’re not going to use this for future absurd bets, are you?”

The cowboy’s grin turned sheepish. “Eh… I was. You know this isn’t the only thing we’re going to disagree on. Might as well make it a blanket wager anytime we make a bet.”

Rolling his eyes at the explanation, Hanzo firmed up his grip. “Very well,” he couldn’t disagree with the cowboy on that. They had already had such disagreements while at the festival. None of them came to any betting, but Hanzo knew there would be more. “Then it is settled. One night given in loss for any absurd bet we make.”

“They’re not that absurd.” McCree defended, taking back his hand to make the left turn.

“They’re all absurd.” Hanzo leaned back and resigned himself to a long two hour drive. It was like the festival all over again. He released a small snort of amusement as he thought back to that afternoon and the absurdity of a full grown man finding enjoyment from the simplest things. A preoccupied smile snuck its way onto his face. He quirked his lips back into the stern neutrality he had been trying to maintain this entire discussion. The drive continued as the ninja listen to the cowboy chatter about nothing or fiddle with the radio stations and complain about not having any English songs. There never seemed to be a dull moment when the American was involved.

{}}}}{{{{}

He had done it. That little amused smile returned to Hanzo’s face if only for a brief moment. It had been insultingly easy. All it took was permission for the serious ninja to be absurd for a moment. Jesse now wondered how often he could provoke that amused upturn of lips to appear on the ninja’s face. He tried not to stare or call attention to it. 

McCree kept his eyes on the road, following the turn directions Hanzo provided. Though this was his first trip beyond the small streets of Hanamura, Jesse meticulously followed the rules of the road, quickly learning the street signs. Driving was not complicated, just disconcerting. He had grown up in America, his natural instinct was to drive on the right hand side of the road. This reversal of sides demanded his full attention. So unfortunately he did not get to fully enjoy the sight of a bemused Hanzo Shimada.

“Turn right up at the restaurant with the red sign.” Hanzo motioned to the building up ahead between what appeared to be a gas station and department store.

“Well, I recognize the symbol for food. What are we going to eat?” Jesse chuckled as he maneuver through traffic.

“I understand you have ramen with Genji on a regular basis. We’re going to another specialty.” Hanzo gave him a calculated glance. Jesse was not entirely sure why he earned such a look. Once he parked Hanzo was the first out of the car and halfway to the restaurant’s door before the cowboy grabbed his hat and managed to heave his oversized frame out of the small black car. As soon as he closed the door the vehicle emitted the loud honk indicating Hanzo had locked it. Apparently the ninja was impatient.

It was after typical lunchtime. Jesse shrugged and straightened his broad brimmed hat before joining Hanzo inside the building. A quiet and well maintained establishment with few patrons and staff busy cleaning after an afternoon rush. Hanzo was already requesting a table when Jesse entered. They were shown to a booth with the window overlooking the street. At the other occupied tables, McCree puzzled over the strangely shaped bowl. He was about to ask again what they were about to enjoy, but Hanzo was busy on his cellphone. His severe look did not welcome conversation.

The ninja must have ordered for them as well because one of those strange pots and plates of raw vegetables and meat arrived at their table without further conversation with a server. Hanzo put away his phone when the food arrived. The flame keeping pot warmed caught Jesse’s attention. It wasn’t often that fire was served with food. “Well?” the cowboy prompted his traveling partner.

“Shabu-Shabu. I thought you might enjoy something different.” Hanzo answered. The Japanese native took his chopsticks and started to place the raw food into the boiling soup. Jesse contained his sigh as he repeated the process on his side of the pot. The food did look interesting.

“So, what brought this on?” he asked while they waited for the ingredients to cook. It certainly was a novel idea to cook the food themselves.

“We needed a place to stop before the long drive and I have not had this in quite some time.” Hanzo answered, poking at the cooking vegetables. Needless to say, Jesse was surprised by the honesty in the answer. Even though the ninja managed to look bored, he had chosen something that he seemed to enjoy. This made McCree wonder how often the heir to the yakuza family was allowed to choose pleasurable experiences. If he was to go by the festival alone, Jesse would estimate that it was rare. And that was just going to have to change. It seemed that Genji was allowed the freedom to seek out the little amusements that made life worth living. Jesse was just going to have to make sure Hanzo found the same. Annoying the man would just be additional fun.

}{{{}}}{

Back on the road McCree had the radio on a low hum. He did not understand enough of the language yet to appreciate the songs, but it did provide a more interesting accompaniment than the dull roar of wind rushing past the windows. Hanzo had set the A.I. to provide directions in English, explained that the toll road pass would automatically deduct when they passed the booths so long as the car was going the speed limit, then promptly produced a small pillow and went to sleep. 

Honestly Jesse thought he should complain about being used as a driver. But it got him out of the castle and beyond Hanamura. So in reality this was a mixed blessing. The only thing that stopped him from pulling over and getting his gun was the fact that the moment the car slowed down Hanzo would wake up. That and there were no orders to kill anyone yet. 

And it did give him quite the time to study his new best friend. The long black hair had been tied back, revealing his face. When in sleep, the young ninja did not look nearly as dangerous as he was. Not nearly as pleasing as the tiny provoked smile, but it would definitely stay with him. It wasn’t the first time he looked at other men. The smooth angles of the ninja’s face while in sleep and the memory of the intensity those facial muscles could achieve left Jesse with a damn fine picture to treasure. But he had no way of knowing if Hanzo shared that interest. It was not something he would bring up in casual conversation. Not with Hanzo, nor with his brother Genji. This was already complicating his orders. He should step away from this now before things got worse.

The long road led to a less than reputable side of town. As expected when Jesse turned down the off ramp, Hanzo straightened in his seat. McCree glanced over as the ninja took his bearings. “Morning, Sunshine!” Jesse greeted him, despite the clearly setting sun. An annoyed frown met the cowboy’s grin. Hanzo did not bother to reply, deciding to investigate the navigation screen to see how much longer until they arrived. Jesse allowed the silence as surface street traffic was more complicated than one way highways. 

After so many alleyways and being scolded twice for missing a turn, McCree pulled into a full parking garage under what he decided was a cheap motel. He parked in the first available spot and eyed Hanzo for direction. The man had taken control of this whole ordeal, he had better know what they were doing next. Shimada wordlessly popped the trunk and left the car. McCree’s only course of action was to grab his hat and follow. As they collected their bags, Jesse had to ask, “Where are we?”

“An establishment owned by my family.” Hanzo’s answer was crisp, tinged with distaste. Whatever occurred here was not the ninja’s cup of tea. Jesse shouldered his duffle bag and followed. He had wanted to see more of Japan.

The inside of the lobby was innocuous. Simple, barren, bordering on sketchy, but nothing out of place. The conversation with the petite female receptionist was in rapid Japanese and Jesse just didn’t bother to try to pick out words. Soon enough he was strolling behind the blue dress shirt, rumpled slightly from the car ride. Hallways awash in beige, carpet threadbare red. The room Hanzo entered was not much better. This low quality establishment was something Jesse expected out of Deadlock Gorge, not the outskirts of Tokyo. Definitely not anything owned by Shimada. Carelessly he dropped his duffle bag onto the geometric blue and gold bedspread, only one bed in the room, and went to try the window. It was past time for a cigarette. The window did not open. “Didn’t think places like this existed in big cities anymore.” Jesse turned to find Hanzo neatly arranging his own luggage consisting of a large suitcase and two oblong cases that clearly held his weapons and ammunition.

“Close the curtain,” Hanzo answered, not turning around. “People will always need inexpensive locations. And it serves us well. We have several different establishments around the country. This one is closest to the associate we are here to investigate. From here we cannot take a car.” The heir to the yakuza family was matter of fact in explaining while removing dark clothing that resembled his training uniform.

“Hate to ask, but how are we going to get there unseen?” Jesse unzipped his duffle bag to collect his gun. He had no idea which case had his bullets. “The window’s stuck.”

“We’re not leaving by the window. The stairs will take us to the roof.”

“There’s the small problem of how I don’t climb walls like a damn spider. And you’re gonna look awfully out of place wandering the halls with a bow and sword.” Jesse motioned to the two unopened cases.

Hanzo graced him with an arched eyebrow. A look the cowboy learned was a silent way to call him an idiot. “The patrons of this hotel are of similar ilk to us. Most work for my family and will not say a word should we pass in the halls. As for exiting the roof, there is a fire escape you can make use of. Our destination is only three alleyways down. You actually passed it on the way here. Now change into the black clothing. Last thing I want is that ugly brass belt buckle to catch the light and give us away.”

Well, that settled it. The Deadlock belt buckle would stay in place. Indefinitely. 

The cowboy did pull out the black jeans and black cotton shirt. Those he could live with. He bet Hanzo would want him to leave the vest here, but he was not going to give that up. Though in the bag below the jeans was a nice leather jacket. Thicker than the one he owned. An insulated lining as well as interior pockets. High end and new. Jesse whipped it out and thrust his arms through the sleeves. Fit his broad shoulders, cuffs at just the right length. The waist did not interfere with the revolver holstered to his hip. Well made and simple. McCree found himself liking the jacket far more than he should. He did not understand Shimada’s insistence on providing clothing that ‘befitted someone representing the family,’ but he had to admit the attire was better fitting and better quality than anything he would have bothered with back home. He had even come to like the button down shirts. Jesse had watched enough old westerns to emulate the mannerisms of the cowboys, but until now he had never tried to mimic their dress beyond the hat. He had to say he liked the look.

When Jesse turned around to collect the rest of his clothing, he saw Hanzo already stripped to his underclothes and in the middle of pulling up the billowy pants of his uniform. Not only did Jesse have quite a view, he let out a low whistle as he studied the intricate blue tinged tattoo. “That’s quite the ink, you got there.” The twists and turns of a dragon spiraled along Hanzo’s left arm, appearing to fly through a storm. He would love an opportunity to study it up close.

Shimada glanced over his shoulder at the comment then continued to dress the midnight black costume of a ninja. “The Dragon of the South Wind. One of the spiritual guardians of my family.” It was hidden from sight when Hanzo pulled the long sleeves of his uniform securely to his shoulder. “Only members of the family may bear such guardians.” The ninja’s voice was reserved. Jesse could not say if it was out of respect for the heritage or uncertainty of revealing such information to the biker. The archer occupied himself with retrieving his weapons and ensuring the travel had not damaged them. Absently he remarked, “You have not changed. We do not have much more time to waste here.”

Jesse laughed heartily, earning a disapproving glower from the heir of the Shimada Clan. “Normally it takes much more charm to get me out of my jeans,” he grinned broadly at the ninja, chuckling as the glare furrowed into confusion. The cowboy tipped his hat and disappeared into the motel’s bathroom before the archer figured it out. Jesse was only half embarrassed that he made the remark. He should have held his tongue. That memory of the tiny bemused smile on that severe visage had kicked his brain away from the job. He thought he had learned how to filter his thoughts before they reached his lips. Jesse swore he was not going to get involved deeper than he already was. Boss’s orders were to get in good with the Shimada Clan and wait for further instructions. McCree could not screw it up because of some pretty face. Not when orders could come to eliminate the owner of that face.

{}}}}{{{{}

Needless to say that Hanzo did not know what had prompted McCree’s outrageous comment. It was out of place and unneeded. He was glad when the sharpshooter had vanished behind the door to the tiny washroom. If the American felt more comfortable changing in there then so be it. Hanzo went about preparing the weapons. His bow took the most time to put together and ensure worked properly. Once strung the soft hum of the plucked string resonated in his bones. While he was exceptional with the katana, the bow held his soul. His father pushed him to master the sword as that was a weapon of the master of the Shimada Clan. Hanzo was allowed to indulge in archery because he had proven to be proficient with the weapon. Sojiro rewarded skill.

With his own weapons prepared, Hanzo removed a box of ammunition suitable for McCree’s revolver from the same case that held his quiver of arrows. He set that next to the cowboy’s duffle bag, curious to see how the man would prepare the bullets for a quick reload. At the exhibition Hanzo had been to far away to truly see the gunman’s methods. 

Taking his quiver, the ninja sat in the one of two chairs near the window, precisely arranging the arrows so he could grab the most appropriate one as needed. When the biker emerged from the bathroom fully dressed in the black jeans and shirt, the hideous brass skull and wings of the Deadlock Rebels was front and center on his belt. Hanzo tried to suppress his frustrated sigh. It was bad enough that the tattered, distinctive, broad brimmed hat stayed in place, but now the buckle threatened their secrecy. 

The other major detail was the leather jacket. It was the one Hanzo had ordered for this mission to avoid having the horrendous patched leather vest. He suspected the vest was under the jacket. But at least the white patches were covered. The possibility of a clandestine entrance to the target mansion still remained. And black suited the gunslinger.

Under Hanzo’s critical eye, the cowboy searched the duffle bag and withdrew two rectangular boxes with a nob in one corner and started to load the bullets in circles of six. Each box held sixty rounds and the nob turned out to be a circular speed loader. If Hanzo understood the device correctly when McCree removed the speed loader the circles of bullets advanced so when the loader was replaced it immediately picked up the next set. It was rather ingenious. 

McCree filled the two speed loading boxes and then proceeded to hand load the last six into his revolver. He had the same self indulgent smile plastered on his face as when he had started spinning his gun to show off at the exhibition. Hanzo shouldered his quiver and secured the sword to his belt. “Let’s be on our way.” The sun had fully set by now and Hanzo wanted to be out of the motel before the more unsavory crowd filled the neighboring rooms. Grabbing his Storm Bow, the ninja led the way to the roof. Heavy boots followed him. Not for the first time did Hanzo wonder if he had made a mistake in bringing the less than subtle cowboy with him.

It did seem odd that the gunslinger was not asking any questions as they traveled. Hanzo had glanced behind him and saw the shadowed face alert to his surroundings, watching every possible corner. It was the mark of a trained killer. The glint in McCree’s eyes betrayed the excitement the man barely contained at being on a job. Gone was the laughable fool that had struggled with the Shabu-Shabu pot. And the one that had grinned his way through the Cherry Blossom festival. The man that followed Hanzo knew his job well. The gunslinger might not be fast but he was observant.

Dark deserted alleyways greeted them. Stray cats darted between the dumpsters, startled by the two men trespassing through their territory. The first trouble came when they reached the masonry wall between Nishimura’s gardens and the narrow passageway. 

A metal gate clicked close in the near silence. Even McCree’s heavy footsteps had quieted down as they slowed. The cowboy was the closest to the gate. Hanzo turned and saw the man awkwardly dodge a fist. The assailant caught the gunslinger in the right shoulder and McCree staggered back from the force. Hanzo immediately notched an arrow and trained it on the attacker. The last thing he needed was someone to call in about intruders. He concluded it was poor timing on their part. Just as he was about to loose an arrow, McCree surged towards his attacker. Left hand caught a fistful of clothing. The surprise caused by the American’s speed lasted mere seconds and Nishimura’s guard parried McCree’s right hook deftly. 

Hanzo recognized the technique from a for-profit school of mass educated karate students. The type low income families sent troubled youths to in order to keep them off the streets. He was not impressed with the standard block and parry. It left the assailant wide open. Still against an oversized American it worked well. Hanzo found his shot as both fighters reset for the next series of blows. His arrow slammed through his victim’s forehead with a soft thud and spurt of blood. The splatter coated the cowboy’s face as he sputtered in shock.

“You almost shot me!” McCree hissed rounding on the smaller archer. Rage built under the brim of his hat. 

“No, I didn’t.” Hanzo calmly shouldered his bow. A large white hand stopped him from turning away. Narrowing his eyes, the heir to the Shimada Clan pondered the benefit of forcefully removing the offending hand from his shoulder. Instead he matched the furious scowl from under the cowboy hat with an intense determined glare of his own. 

“Tell that to the cut on my cheek!” The sharpshooter’s voice rose in self-righteous anger. Indeed, under the dark bloodstains from the guard was a dripping line of blood along McCree’s right cheekbone. It was at about the right height to have been in the way of the arrow’s path.

“That is only because you moved.” His voice remained level but he roughly brushed away the massive hand. “We couldn’t afford the possibility of him informing the others. A quick kill out weighed the risks. Dispose of the body. We do not need him found before morning.” Hanzo watched the American puff up his shoulders to increase his presence. The ninja rolled his eyes at the overt display of intimidation. He turned his back on the gunslinger and almost immediately heard the clank of metal as the revolver left the holster. Without looking back, Hanzo said, “I know you don’t miss. But consider how you will return to America should you succeed.” No further sound issued from the man behind him. Hanzo imagined he could hear teeth grinding. Apparently McCree was reaching the limit of his cooperation.

In the pause, the ninja darted up the wall of the nearest building. His feet and hands barely made a noise against the bricks. And only a soft grind against the asphalt roof as he peered over the ledge. Below in the shadows, McCree stooped to grab the body’s feet and proceeded to drag the corpse towards a section of thicker black shadows. A muted ring of plastic on metal indicated the source of the shadows to be a one of the many dumpsters along the alley. He did not watch any longer as he removed electronic equipment from one of the pouches he carried on his belt. 

A simple device jammed the signals from the surrounding cameras to loop the last couple of minutes and show an empty roof. Only then did Hanzo creep towards the ledge overlooking the gardens of Nishimura’s mansion. The business owner owed quite a bit to the Shimada Clan. If he was thinking of backing out of his debt by hiring local thugs, he had another thing coming. Asking the Shimada Clan to eliminate this Water Dragon Gang would only put Nishimura further into the Clan’s debt with no way to pay. Hanzo had investigated the associate’s businesses and found them to be failing. He suspected the man to seek to force a battle between criminals so he could slip away without paying either. They only needed a small bit of proof so he could enact their own form of justice.

Rattling metal from the fire escape announced the arrival of McCree. Still Hanzo crouched with an arrow ready on the off chance it was not his current partner. He did not lower it even as the tattered hat breeched the ledge. Only when the black leather clad, oversized individual stepped over the railing did Hanzo relax. If the cowboy noticed that an arrow had been aimed at his head, the man did not comment. Instead he stooped low to minimize his profile as he walked over to where the ninja surveyed the gardens.

“You’re a right bastard, you know that.” The gruff whisper settled uncomfortably in Hanzo’s ear.

Arching an eyebrow, Hanzo studied McCree in silence for an exaggerated moment. Then he returned to studying the courtyard below. “I know exactly who my father is. My mother as well. And if you do not want me to bring up your parentage and speculate as to their professions, you will cease the insults that call them into question.” His calm did not break even when he watched McCree’s hand twitch next to the revolver.

“Fuck you!” The curse was harsh but not loud enough to attract immediate attention. That threatened to change. “I’m done listening to you and your bullshit orders! I’m not your pack mule. Not your driver. And sure as hell ain’t your clean up boy!”

“Are you finished?” Hanzo interrupted blandly.

“Ain’t even close,” McCree snarled, mere inches away. The brim of the hat nearly brushed Hanzo’s hairline. At some point before the climb, the cowboy had wiped the blood from his face though flecks remained in his brown sideburns.

Meeting the wild eyes and flared nostrils with grace and calm challenged the young yakuza boss in training. “Are you at least finished for now? We still have a job to do.” Watching the cowboy growl in frustration as he struggled with his emotions made Hanzo certain he had barely escaped a raging bull.

“I can be.” McCree conceded with pain in his eyes at having to make the concession. Whatever orders he had from Mr. Hopkins still rang strong in that cowboy’s memory.

“Good.” Hanzo removed another electronic as if the burst of anger from the man beside him had never happened. His eyes trained on movement in the gardens below and he aimed the small antenna towards the group of five men strolling through the azaleas. He popped an earbud into place and listened in on the conversation. Nishimura had the routine of smoking while discussing distasteful business. And he always took a walk through his gardens before bed. The Shimada Clan had learned this habit before Nishimura had even approached them years ago asking for help.

 _“Those punks are getting brazen about their activities,”_ one of the assistants said. _“The police have already taken out several of their thugs, leaving them weak. They will not stand a chance against the well organized Shimada family.”_

 _“I don’t need them to stand a chance. I need them to cause trouble. A distraction.”_ Nishimura paused as he lit another cigarette. _“The markets will turn around. They always do.”_

 _“The rise of the Omnic discontent is destabilizing the business we have in England. Unless that gets controlled we will not have the consumers we need.”_ Another business assistant walked behind the owner with a holographic tablet displaying his figures. The five men continued walking. The conversation did not put Nishimura in the best light. No further conversation came from them.

“Tch,” Hanzo lowered the antenna. The businessman was making the circle of the garden and would head back inside soon. He had to make a decision. Was this enough to prove Nishimura wanted to renege on his debts?

“Want them dead?” McCree asked suddenly. The man next to him was also watching the small meeting below them. Quickly Hanzo checked his own expression and cleared away the furrowed brow and scowl that the cowboy must have used to interpret Hanzo’s thoughts.

He did some quick thinking. They could wait until tomorrow and hope for more information. Which meant the corpse in the dumpster would be found. Or they could act tonight and remove the drain on Shimada’s resources. The Clan could of course simply cut Nishimura off from their protection, but that meant the businessman could turn evidence to the authorities and begin an inquiry Hanzo’s father would not want. The ninja answered by raising his bow to aim at the men below.

A white hand settled on the arrow, lightly pushing it down. “That’s gonna be a problem, ain’t it?” McCree glanced towards Hanzo when the archer resisted the motion. The other hand displayed the bloody arrow from the first kill. “Arrows are distinctive. They’re gonna know it’s you. Now if that’s what you want, then go ahead. But you can only get one man at a time. That’s gonna give them time to call back up. Makes disappearing kinda hard.” Now the gunslinger arched an eyebrow, expecting an argument. Hanzo paused as he recognized the points McCree made were valid.

“Your suggestion?” he prompted. The cowboy would not have spoken up if he had not had another option.

“Let me handle it,” McCree grinned. Confident and broad. The same grin that said the man knew he would win. The dangerous gleam in his eyes gave the look a sinister overtone. Hanzo eased his arrow from the string and motioned for McCree to proceed. 

After setting the arrow on the asphalt, the American had the nerve to stand upright at the edge of the roofline. Hanzo wanted to yank the man back down and curse him out for being so brazen. The only thing that stopped him was the deadly eagerness in McCree’s eyes. He shuddered. Instinct trembled inside him, warning him that anyone caught in that gaze would not survive. Hanzo was about to watch this rattlesnake strike.

Without warning five shots echoed across the night. Five dead men collapsed among the flowering bushes. “Time to go, darling,” McCree darted for the fire escape, boots scuffing up loose grains of asphalt along the way. 

“That was not something you shared at the exhibition,” Hanzo hissed angrily, running alongside the man.

“A man’s gotta keep some secrets,” the cowboy grinned. This time only excitement bled through the expression. “Sides, that ain’t something I can show on clay targets.”

“Clearly,” Hanzo grumbled as he was forced to accept McCree’s explanation. After seeing the biker in action, the ninja had to admit that as a gunslinger the man was incredibly skillful. And his understanding of events impressive. Of more interest was how this lumbering cowboy could go from childish foolishness to murderous calm and back within moments. Though Hanzo had a mind to inform McCree that the use of descriptive names was not acceptable. But that would have to wait until they were not fleeing the scene of a mass murder.


	5. Within Talon's Reach

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new mission and new feelings

**Chapter Five: Within Talon’s Reach**

Jesse was not sure who he wanted to strangle the most right then. Shimada or himself. The job was a success as far as the cowboy was concerned. But he certainly wanted to destroy something. In one day he had been used as a driver, bellboy and clean up man, but the worst was that he had complied with the orders without complaint. He was a sharpshooter, a gunman! He had not done any of those messy jobs since his initiation into the Deadlock Rebels. Whatever hierarchy the Shimadas’ believed Deadlock had, Jesse was not a simple low level soldier. He was not a prospect.

While he ran behind the archer, Jesse kicked himself mentally for getting stuck in this position. First he had tried to hit on the son of a yakuza boss. That alone was idiotic enough. Then he had yelled and cursed at the man who quite literally held Jesse’s life in his hands. When was that ever a smart idea? When he had the muzzle of his revolver aimed at the smooth black tail of hair, McCree had been full of rage at being used. He didn’t care about the alliance at that moment. He just wanted the respect that he felt he had damn well earned. But he had backed down. The ninja was right. No matter his success at killing the heir to the Shimada Clan, Jesse would not have simply spent time in a Japanese prison. No. His bloody remains would have been shipped back to Deadlock in tiny little packages. And all hopes at learning who was disrupting Deadlock’s business deals would be gone.

Then he had the nerve to show off. The one technique that could have saved his life in a confrontation with ninjas was no longer a secret. True it had been the best option to rid themselves of the group of men. But he had the gall to flaunt his skill. Jesse couldn't help it. He liked being the center of positive attention. He wanted to show off. Wanted to make a good impression. And if he wanted Hanzo to notice him as something more than a grunt, so be it.

But damn if it hadn’t been a stupid thing to do. Jesse burned through two cigarettes just on the fire escape stairs going back to the roof. Neither said another word on the way back to the motel room. Nor once they were within. McCree dropped his gun and holster on the bed and removed his jacket, belt, and ammunition. Those also landed on the blue and gold comforter. As he tossed his hat on top of the belongings he noted that Hanzo was neatly returning his own weapons to their cases. The man didn’t spare him a glance. So Jesse rooted through his duffle bag and found a clean set of boxers and an undershirt. As he was the only one that had actual blood on his hands, McCree commandeered the tiny bathroom for a long hot shower. 

Under the water, Jesse first scrubbed the blood out of his hair and creases in his hands. Then his mind returned to the night. He knew next to nothing about the men he had just killed. That was nothing new. He wondered if the bullets would connect the Shimada Clan to the crime. Probably less than Hanzo’s arrows. His thoughts questioned if that was the reason he had been brought on this mission. It would have been smart. It wasn’t the way of the Shimada family members to use guns.

His brow furrowed. He had been used. The meat of his fist thumped against the white tiles in frustration. Now Jesse did not mind using his gun for such jobs, but he usually knew more heading into the job. Not this vague claim of ‘testing his capabilities.’ Whatever was going on inside the Shimada mind, McCree needed to know. He was not going to blindly follow orders. Hell, even Boss Hopkins gave why they were going to execute anyone. 

No matter how pretty Hanzo Shimada was, Jesse was not going let it get in the way of getting the full extent of the mission details before the next outing. Jesse’s gut told him there would be more. The Shimadas would be a fool to let this skill of his go to waste. They would also be a fool to keep it around where it could be used against them. It wasn’t the first time the gunslinger had that thought. He was confident Boss Hopkins was aware of the double edge sword he had in keeping McCree around. Jesse just happened to like the motorcycle gang. Their business came second.

Once he finally emerged, clean and dressed comfortably for bed, Jesse caught a glimpse through the tousling towel drying his hair of the archer sitting beside the open window meticulously cleaning the sword that had not seen any action. “Wait a minute, the window was stuck.”

Hanzo did not glance up from his sword. “No, the latch is at the top of the window.” 

Biting back the instinct to insult the man, Jesse stuffed the night’s clothing into his duffle bag and continued to pack his equipment. He left the towel on his head and picked up his gun. “Could have told me.”

“I answered the question you posed.” Hanzo still did not look up.

The answer grated on Jesse’s nerve. He plopped down in the second chair closest to window and lit a cigarette. There was a wrinkle of disgust on the ninja’s nose, but Jesse didn’t care. He set about emptying the one remaining bullet from his revolver and cleaning the gun. “Well, that was mighty kind of you.” Annoyance tinged his voice

“Hmn,” was the noncommittal noise. For several silent moments to two men cleaned their weapons. A knock at the door and a call in Japanese announcing the presence of the hotel staff spurred Hanzo to sheath his sword. He stood but did not suggest Jesse hide the weapons. Not even when the ninja answered the door and allowed a tiny woman to roll a folded up cot into the room.

“What’s this?” Jesse demanded once the woman left. 

Hanzo was manipulating the furniture in the room to find the best arrangement for the cot. “You may have the bed,” the other man answered. Jesse’s eyes moved to the blue and gold comforter and just noticed that the luggage Hanzo had brought was gone. Neatly stacked next to the dresser. 

“Why?” It was the only word Jesse could think of. Dumbfounded at the fact Hanzo had bothered to fix the sleeping arrangements to not be awkward between strangers.

“Considering the size of the cot, you will not fit.” Hanzo arched his eyebrow and wordlessly called Jesse an idiot. The gunslinger hated that look. With the cot now situated between the bed and the window, Hanzo collected his own sleepwear and disappeared into bathroom. Jesse was left staring at the second bed, wondering how he had gotten so caught up in his own brain that he had not noticed the changes or thought about the set up. The whole thing irritated him.

Snuffing his cigarette, Jesse dropped the damp towel to the chair. It had been a long day. Running his fingers through his hair, McCree knew he was past done. An early morning followed by a long drive and finally the brief moment of excitement at the top of a building wrung all sense from the cowboy. It had been a strange day. Out of his element and flirting with disaster, Jesse made the decision to go to bed. He reloaded his revolver and dropped it on the bedside table before flopping on to the king sized bed. With any luck sleep would reset his mind and let him think clearly.

Just as he was drifting to sleep, a thought buzzed into Jesse’s head. The young yakuza boss in training had not asked anything further about the technique he had seen. The one that had allowed Jesse to drop five men in one breath. What was Hanzo going to say when he chose to bring it up? Was he going to mention it to Mr. Shimada? Of course he would. It would be stupid not to. Should Jesse attempt to explain himself? But what was there to explain? They already knew the cowboy was a gunman of significant skill. What difference would it make if he was able to kill five men in one second verses ten seconds? He still wouldn’t be allowed to keep his gun on castle grounds. 

Jesse told his brain to shut up and firmly pulled the blankets over his head. A keg of beer would help. Not that he was going to be able to get one. But a drink after a job silenced his mind and let him sleep.

{}}}}{{{{}

Genji was waiting for them once they returned to Hanamura Castle. The bright green hair blended with the new leaves of the cherry trees. Hanzo only noticed him because it was the same tree Genji always sat in when waiting for his older brother to return. Hanzo glanced to the man walking beside him. McCree lumbered on, cigarette in his mouth and duffle bag over his shoulder. Their conversations had been sparse on the return drive. The ninja was still trying to determine the best course of action now that he had seen what he believed to be the full extent of the gunslinger’s abilities. He would definitely inform his father, but perhaps it would be prudent not to inform the elders just yet. Their actions ran the risk being either too cautious or too anxious. In this respect Hanzo was certain they would be too anxious. From his dealings with the biker, the heir to the Shimada Clan understood that McCree was determined to keep the alliance. At least until his boss overturned that order. He was more dedicated to that task than even the Shimada Ninjas. 

So when Genji dropped from the lower branches of the cherry tree, only the cowboy was surprised. “Where have you been?” A playful accusatory tone filled his voice. Annoyance wrapped around Hanzo’s shoulders as he watched his brother attempt to claim their attention.

 _“Working,”_ Hanzo returned shortly before McCree could answer. He was not in the mood to appease Genji following business. _“Something you would understand if were involved with the family.”_ He changed the conversation to Japanese as he was more comfortable in the language of his birth. Also he did not need McCree to be intimately familiar with the discord among the Shimada Clan. While the American’s understanding had improved, it was not fluent enough to follow the rapid speech of native speakers.

 _“I’m in college. Not even you worked during college.”_ Genji protested with an exaggerated roll of his eyes and shoulders. 

_“That is not the point, Genji.”_ Hanzo readjusted his cases. Though he could have had their foot soldiers or attendants handle the gear, he was feeling possessive. He couldn’t pinpoint the feeling but he knew it was in response to the American he had shared a car with for far too many hours. _“I am not free to waste my time in the arcades. I never have been. So demanding where we’ve been assumes we have a choice in our actions. Our lives do not revolve around you.”_ he was perhaps harsher than he ought to be, judging from the stricken look on Genji’s face. But he had spent the better part of three hours in a car dreading the conversation that would come once he returned home.

 _“Hey! I didn’t mean it like that!”_ Genji stepped back as if Hanzo had drawn a weapon. _“Only that you’ve both left without a word.”_

 _“That’s the nature of time sensitive information.”_ Hanzo caught the eye of one of their foot solders. He was pleased to see it was a man he trusted. “Sora, if you would escort McCree back to his room. McCree promised to return his revolver on good faith.” Hanzo pinned the cowboy with a stern glare. He was not in the mood for games.

The American scowled and hefted the duffle bag where the revolver lay encased. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. I’m not that much of an idiot.” He tipped his ugly broad brimmed hat and turned to follow the crisp black suit of the wakaishou. The pair had to step aside when the oyabun appeared on the veranda. The biker even tipped his hat in respect. Something Hanzo filed away under unexpected events. Perhaps the man understood that showing proper deference would grant him the greater freedoms he desired.

Sojiro paused to study the cowboy in the blue jeans and dark orange cotton shirt. Hanzo could see that the leader of the clan still regarded the biker as the rattlesnake loose on the property. That wasn’t too unexpected. “Mr. McCree, I trust you have been reminded of the weapons policy on my property.”

“A thousand times over, boss,” the cowboy started to roll his eyes but caught himself. Though he did not seem to recognize the disbelief raising the eyebrows of the soldiers around him. “Sora, is coming to collect it when I unpack. The faster I get there the quicker you have it locked in your vault.”

“I see,” Shimada motioned for them to carry on. The biker had not been exactly flippant in his tone, but it was definitely not the same level of respect Sojiro was accustomed to. Hanzo marveled at the degree to which McCree was comfortable in dealing with the Clan now. If the ninja were to judge, this appeared to be what was considered typical among the Deadlock Rebels and their leadership. At least when times were good. Of course this could just be the American casting a wrench in the smoothly running gears of the yakuza family.

The black leather vest and its skull patch mocked the clean lines of the suit jacket walking next to it. Hanzo watched as the two men disappeared into the castle. The balance of power was shifting. The confident swagger of the biker knowing he had the skill to take down his captors or be indispensable to his leader. Hanzo needed to ensure that the latter option became true. He was about to bring up the issue when he caught the severe expression on his father’s face as they watched the cowboy.

 _“I look forward to hearing a detailed report of your mission, Hanzo. But for now, I would like to two of you to join me for tea. There are a few matters that I must discuss with you.”_ Sojiro motioned for an attendant to materialize from the shadows and take Hanzo’s cases. The boys shared a confused look as Hanzo was relieved of his burden. Together they followed their father down a different path than the gunslinger. They found their way to a garden view room where tea waited. The fat white porcelain teapot with the blue painted dragon greeted them.

The oyabun settled on the cushion behind the low ornately carved wooden table. Hanzo and Genji took seats beside each other. Immediately Hanzo took the teapot and poured the green tea for the three of them. The silence hovered in the room in a thick cloud as the brothers waited for their father to explain himself. Hanzo knelt back with the white cup in his hands. His dress slacks pulled uncomfortably as he shifted into a crosslegged position. He was tired from the long drive and anxiety of needing to relate the news to his father. Something he did not intend to do with Genji present. His brother had no interest in family business therefore did not need to know what his friend was capable of.

 _“There is no easy way to tell you this,”_ Their father began softly. Hanzo recalled that this was the same voice he remembered from their childhood. Calm, protective, and gentle. One his faint memory shared with that of their mother. Once Hanzo had begun training in earnest he could not remember hearing this voice except when eavesdropping on conversations between Genji and their father. He felt his heart constrict. Instinct flooded Hanzo with the knowledge that whatever came next would not be pleasant. Not if their father was using this voice. One not heard in years. _“I have kept Shinya informed of this situation, but now you two are old enough where you should also be aware. Over the past couple of years I have been battling cancer of the lungs. The doctors believe I am currently undergoing a remission, but since it has resurfaced before we are taking the disease one day at a time.”_

 _“Father,”_ Genji started, leaning forward, wide-eyed with denial. _“But the treatments… I thought they could cure cancers.”_ No demands to know why their father kept this from them. No anger at being left out of the family decisions involved. Genji was concerned with their father’s life. Not the consequences of its loss. Hanzo closed his eyes and tightened his hands around the warm porcelain cup.

 _“The treatments are excellent, Sparrow. It is what has kept me alive this long.”_ Sojiro tried to alleviate their fears. To Hanzo the inconsistencies of the past year made more sense. The persistent cough. The authority given to Uncle Shinya. The fewer public appearances. The showmanship during those few appearances. The absolute care to be immaculate in front of their own soldiers. The allowance of Hanzo to take on ever increasing responsibilities at such a young age. The disappearances for days. Their father had known for some time that his battle with cancer would end before his children were ready. Sojiro had accepted it. Genji did not. 

Hanzo turned a deaf ear to his younger brother’s insistence that medicine could solve everything. The elder Shimada brother did not want to be the responsible one. He wanted to rage against the doctors and demand that something more could be done. Gently and deliberately he placed the teacup on the table, fearful he would break it in his grasp. _“How long?”_ he asked pragmatically. Hanzo had been groomed for the position of oyabun for years. He understood the necessity of asking the difficult questions. The ones he did not want the answers to, but needed to know. Right now he was not allowed to be a son. Genji stole that role. His brother protested at how insensitive the question was. How everything would be done to make it years. Hanzo though only met his father’s eyes and waited.

Sojiro calmly met his gaze. Within those dark brown eyes was an apology. That alone shocked Hanzo. He had never seen his father apologize for anything. _“The doctors are not certain. If the cancer stays in remission, it could very well be years as Genji suggests. If the cancer returns or appears elsewhere, some suggest as little as three to six months.”_

 _“I see.”_ Hanzo bowed his head in thought. _“Father… I will work with you through anything that happens… But could you excuse me for the afternoon.”_ The older Shimada brother squeezed his eyes against the onslaught of tears. No matter how appropriate the expression of emotion was, Hanzo refused to let it control him. His voice did not waver. If this family meeting continued any longer he might not be able to keep his emotions in check. All he could remember was his father telling him in this very same voice that they had lost their mother.

_“Of course, Hanzo. Take the time you need.”_

With a shallow bow of respect, Hanzo practically fled the room. Stately with dignity, but fled all the same. Genji tried to protest but the words never made it to Hanzo’s ears. He returned to his room and shed the modern clothing. Carefully he dressed in his practice uniform. Within the familiar cloth and protective armor, Hanzo pushed his emotions to the back of his mind. He grabbed his Storm Bow and arrows. He would do the one thing that could put all current conflict out of his head. Simple meditation would not clear his brain of the jumble of thoughts and memories. He would not mourn a death that had yet to occur. 

For a man that had grown up surrounded by death, Hanzo felt unprepared for the eventuality of the death of his parent. He had known somewhere in his mind that for him to take the mantle of oyabun his father would have to be dead. His father was not dead and yet that was the only thing he could think about. Part of him understood that denial was a natural response. An expected response. The other part of him raged in denial and refused to accept his father’s condition.

Once he reached the archery range, Hanzo had his outward expression controlled. Three men, his cousins, were using the range. Normally Hanzo would not mind the company, allowing his fellow ninjas to train alongside him. But as the heir to the Shimada Clan, he did have the right to commandeer training facilities for his private use. Today he did just that. _“Please continue your training elsewhere.”_ His voice was cold and his gaze impassive. It startled his cousins but they complied immediately.

Alone on the range, facing the simple target, Hanzo finally released the tight reign on his emotions. Hot tears leaked out of the corners of his eyes. It lasted only a moment and he wiped them away immediately. Still the small catharsis granted him the emotional stability to smoothly notch an arrow and let it soar into the soft target. Another followed. Soon the repetition overtook his body. Each arrow released a tiny bit of his frustration.

A whistle behind him startled him. He whipped around with an arrow leading the way. The annoying cowboy sat in the bleachers. His hands flew up showing he did not intend any harm. The cigarette dangled from the man’s lips. “Whoa, there. Just thinking that I should have let you get some target practice in with those fellas.”

Hanzo did not lower his arrow. “Go away.” He gauged his voice to be level and stern.

McCree instead vaulted over the barrier between the dirt range and the wooden bleachers. “Now, don’t be like that, darling. Here I thought we were becoming friends.”

“Do not call me ‘darling’ or any other form of affectionate name that comes to your mind. We are not friends. We are business partners. If even that.” Hanzo turned away from the man and released the arrow into the target. It went wide and the thud into the wooden barrier echoed across the range. Something about having another person behind him ruined Hanzo’s tenuous concentration. “How did you get in here anyway?” he demanded, notching another arrow into place.

“Noticed the guards were studiously not looking into this place. Heard someone making a racket so I thought I’d check it out.”

“But how? The soldiers would not let anyone through the gates.”

“Didn’t come through the gates.”

“But you said you cannot climb walls. So how? How did you climb the back of the stands?”

“Didn’t.” The cowboy hooked his thumbs in the belt loops and released a ridiculously proud grin. “I climbed the tree.”

With an annoyed growl, Hanzo aimed his arrow at McCree’s head. “Now go away.”

“Hey! No need for that! Just thought you needed company. That’s all.”

“I do not need company. That is why I asked for everyone to leave the archery range.” The ninja drew the bowstring tighter and shifted just enough for the arrow to fly just under the cowboy’s hat and into the wooden pillar next to him. “Go away.”

“Shit! What’s the matter with you!” McCree scrambled back up the bleachers. The cigarette lost on the dirt. Hanzo crushed the smoldering butt as he took his stance to aim another arrow at the cowboy.

“I told you to leave.” Another arrow thudded on the bench next to the snakeskin boot.

“Goddammit! I’m goin’!” The boots thundered up the rest of the bleachers but Hanzo did not watch the cowboy leave. Tears prickled the edges of his eyes as his frustrations and fears returned to the forefront of his mind. Simply having another person present ruined his attempt at calm. He had needed the afternoon of solitude to control the grief before he could deal with other people again. He rubbed his right sleeve across his eyes to remove the evidence of his failure to hide his emotions.

“You look like you could use a drink.” The cowboy’s voice was right behind his left shoulder. Hanzo did not want to think about what it took for the clunky boots to apparently come upon him unheard. He already knew his usual alertness was faulty thanks to the distress his family problems were giving him.

“I do not need a drink.” Hanzo stubbornly answered. His gaze locked onto some uninteresting patch of dirt about a meter in front of him.

“Yeah, you do. I’d buy you one, but you don’t pay me enough. Or rather your father don’t.” Without intention the cowboy’s words sent a fresh wave of tears and guilt through Hanzo at the mention of his father. It was the last thing the archer wanted. Their resident foreigner to see him at his weakest.

“Just… go away.” Hanzo’s voice was quieter as he gave up trying to stifle the grief. He kept his eyes closed and his left hand had a death grip on his bow.

“Alright. But when you go get that drink, have someone with you.” The cowboy’s boots thumped on the wooden benches indicating the man was returning to the tree he had climbed. Once alone, Hanzo allowed himself to sink to his knees. He would be strong tomorrow. Today he granted himself the emotional released he needed. 

}{{{}}}{

Three days since the family meeting Hanzo sat next to his father at another business meeting. He had informed his father of the details of execution of Nishimura. They agreed to keep the information between themselves for the time being. Sojiro agreed that they did not need to have the Elders of the Clan unreasonably anxious when there was nothing further to be done. McCree did not have his weapon. He was under constant surveillance. And they were supposed to be on friendly terms with the Deadlock Rebels. The American would just be an asset that sat on the back burner until needed.

Today though their conversations about the maintenance of business fronts were interrupted by a young man from their personal communication department. _“Forgive me for interrupting, oyabun.”_ The man bowed deeply after barging through the boardroom door. _“An urgent message from Mr. Hopkins came through two minutes ago. It contains information that may be time sensitive.”_ A portable video player passed between the specialist and a soldier before resting in front of the leader of the Shimada Clan. Everyone at the table held their breath as the message began.

“Mr. Shimada,” the voice was not familiar to Hanzo. It was rough but well educated simply judging from the choice of words. It was possible this was from Hopkins himself. “I know you are working hard on our shared investigation. Our friends in Los Muertos sent another little video. I believe you keep warehouses in various port cities. A warehouse in the Port of Ensenada was broken into several hours ago. Nothing was reported stolen.” The video showed a metal building with a large hole ripped in the side. A team of three exited through the entry hole. Most notably was the muscular black man in the lead. He was unidentified but Hanzo was certain the man would be seen again. Hopkin’s voice over continued. “But then if there were illegal items in that warehouse I doubt your men would report it to the authorities.” The video ended and everyone at the table sat in silence.

Sojiro was the first to speak. His measured tone revealed that he thought carefully even as he made decisions. _“Please send our gratitude to Mr. Hopkins. And to Los Muertos. Suggest that Los Muertos be brought fully into our agreement with Mr. Hopkins as their surveillance suggests they are concerned for their own enterprises.”_ The communications director bowed and darted from the room. The oyabun frowned as he twisted the portable player on the table. _“It appears as though this unknown organization has another face. Kazuki-san, find out who this man is. He is unique enough that we should at least get a name.”_

 _“I’ll find that name, oyabun.”_ Kazuki stated firmly. Hanzo noted that his great uncle had not given a time frame. It was a smart move. But the heir to the clan wanted a better answer. His instinct told him that they needed to know this information sooner than later. But he could not force the information to miraculously appear. Uncle Kazuki was good at his job. His entire team was. Hanzo, like his father, had to trust his subordinates.

 _“Thank you, Kazuki-san. Now this interruption is cause for alarm. What was in that warehouse?”_ The question was addressed to everyone at the table. It was Hanzo’s great uncle Akira who answered.

 _“Pharmaceuticals. And other illegal mind altering substances.”_ Akira was in charge of international shipments both legal and illegal. _“I’ll have a manifest before this afternoon is over. Judging by the port of departure, I’d say that the cargo ship left yesterday. None of our captains have reported unusual activity much less pirates. But we’ll have a role call to report all activity from the past forty-eight hours.”_

 _“Bring the transcripts with the manifest.”_ The oyabun settled into silence. A frown forming on his face. _“Hanzo, take a team to Tomakomai. There is another warehouse of pharmaceuticals waiting for the buyer to collect. If this unknown organization found one of our warehouses, they might try for another. If you find an opportunity, a talkative potential is preferred over a silent enemy.”_ Shimada pinned a sharp set of eyes on his oldest son. Hanzo nodded in a tight acknowledgement. _“I want a review of all information discovered before dinner.”_ The group of men gave their agreements and bowed their way out of the room. Hanzo did the same. He had an excursion to plan.

The elder Shimada brother followed the directions to where his cousin was on guard duty. Sora was an excellent ninja and was on a direct path to become an executive officer and eventual Elder of the Clan. In route Hanzo informed the officer in charge of the wakaishou that Sora, Hiro and Zenkichi would be taken for another assignment. On finding his cousin on the veranda near the well, Hanzo waved to get his attention. 

_“Sora, we are going to Hokkaido tonight. Collect Zenkichi and Hiro and get your gear. I want to leave by four.”_ Hanzo announced the moment they were in speaking distance. Casual conversation would have to wait. Sora was about to acknowledge the orders when Hanzo added more almost as an afterthought. _“And get the revolver. Whoever we are going to meet will not be expecting the Gaijin.”_

_”Understood.”_ Sora had a suppressed grin on his face. Hanzo scowled and was about to demand an explanation when a slow drawl wafted up from below the bridge. 

“Ya know, calling a man a Gaijin ain’t very nice.” A long stream of white smoke accompanied the cowboy as he walked into visual range below them. Broad hat and black vest the most iconic pieces of clothing on the foreigner. 

_”You knew,”_ Hanzo accused his cousin. 

Sora shrugged, still with an amused smile on his face. _”It’s one of his favorite smoking locations.”_

_”I will remember this next time you need a favor.”_

_”See you in two hours, Hanzo!”_ Sora waved as he darted off to comply with his orders. That was the trouble with working with family. One minute they obeyed orders without question. The next they did not care about hierarchy and used every moment poke fun at each other. 

The thud of cowboy boots echoed under the veranda’s cover, announcing the arrival of the American. The biker was at the same level of mixing disrespect and compliance. “So, what’s in Hokkaido?” 

“Get your gear. I’ll tell you and everyone else when we are underway.” Hanzo could see the man begin to protest out of the corner of his eye. He started walking away. “They understand English,” Hanzo shut down the complaints before they could start. “Though at this rate you will understand Japanese well enough that in a few months we won’t need to bother with English.” 

The cowboy kept pace with ninja. Boots thudding loudly. “Well to think I’d get a compliment outta you.” 

“Pack your bag. And meet me at the guard house in one hour.” Hanzo refused to look at the foreigner. 

“The others have two,” McCree complained. 

“The others don’t need to go over our protocols when working with a group. And you have never been part of one of our teams. Go pack your bag and be in the guard house in one hour.” Hanzo increased his pace, his geta clattering loudly against the wooden veranda as he departed from McCree’s company. This had been the first conversation with the cowboy since the incident at the archery range. Hanzo did not want to think about that day. He had enough to worry about with the upcoming mission. Overall he believed the today’s encounter did not differ from previous ones. He tried to keep his dealings with the cowboy professional. 

Within the prescribed hour Hanzo changed from his traditional clothing into the black uniform that would make the athletic component of the mission easier. He armed himself with his katana and Storm Bow to complete his preparation. The quiver of arrows on his back comfortably rested next to the study bow. He was waiting for McCree at a table in the guardhouse, wondering if the man was capable of preparing just as quickly. 

He was surprised when the cowboy’s boots announce his arrival a full five minutes before the allotted time had passed. Hanzo glanced up and noted that McCree wore the all black attire with the Deadlock belt buckle on prominent display. Worn brown leather gloves were tucked to the left side of McCree's belt. The tattered patched leather vest also remained with the biker. Though the new leather jacket from the previous mission hung from a finger over his right shoulder. A new addition to the ensemble glared from around McCree’s neck. A red bandana. Whatever had prompted the gunslinger to add that accessory to his cowboy look was not Hanzo’s concern. 

It took the entire next hour to get McCree remotely comfortable with the terms he would hear over the radio. Granted most of the conversation would be in English for his benefit; there were certain aspects of training that Hanzo could not expect his team to change. While the heir to the Shimada Clan did not expect the cowboy to actually use the codes, he did expect the man to recognize them. 

They were walking to the garage to meet with the three other teammates when Hanzo was stopped by his father. Shimada approached them from another direction accompanied by his own bodyguards. Both McCree and Hanzo paused as the oyabun motioned for them to stop. “You may join the rest of the team, Mr. McCree.” The cowboy scowled but tipped his hat and moved on. Hanzo gave his father his complete attention. He worried about what the leader of the clan could have to tell him that could not have been said during the initial meeting. _”Take the video. The man who burglarized the warehouse in Mexico could be the same man who attempts other thefts.”_ Sojiro passed the small holographic player to his son. Hanzo glanced between the electronic and his father. This was minor. It did not require the oyabun to be present. The older man glanced at the group gathering to travel to the Hokkaido seaport. _”I know this does not need to be said, but I feel that you must hear it regardless.”_ It was the same voice that Hanzo had heard during the family meeting. The one he had not heard since his mother passed away. Hanzo clenched his jaw and waited, anxious about what his father could have to say. _“Come home.”_ Sojiro meet Hanzo’s eyes with a curious blend of seriousness and gentleness. The words ‘I love you’ never passed the man’s lips. Had never been heard in the family directed from father to son. But these two words were as close as the yakuza boss would come. 

_”I will see you when I return, father.”_ Hanzo bowed solemnly. The delicate nature of his father’s condition and Hanzo’s position meant the two men needed to work together seamlessly. And Hanzo needed to remain alive. That was the key in transferring power peacefully. The family recognized Hanzo’s authority but only if Sojiro continued to trust his son. And without Hanzo, Sojiro would not have an heir worthy of leading the Shimada Clan. Even the oyabun understood that the Elders were not pleased with Genji’s performance within the family, though Sojiro was not concerned with those feelings. Their father continued to allow Genji free reign, as if knowing the young man would never make a proper yakuza soldier. 

_”I know you will.”_ the oyabun nodded and with a finally glance at the Hokkaido bound team, he turned away. Hanzo now had the task of protecting their merchandise and discovering who was attempting to steal it. 

}{{{}}}{ 

Cold lingered in the night air despite the late spring date. Hokkaido seldom welcomed the warmer weather as quickly as the rest of the islands and being on the coast blew the spring back into hiding by the time the early morning hours rolled around. Hanzo knelt on the roof of a nearby warehouse. The metal roof was an uncomfortable, unforgiving barrier to his knee. He did not know what they would find. Sora had his own bow ready on the next building over. Both of them were watching the warehouse owned by the pharmaceutical business front for the Shimada Clan. Zenkichi had the surveillance of the far side of the warehouse. That left Hiro and McCree to canvass the surface streets for intruders. 

This night could be a complete bust. But they planned to stay for several days to see what happened. Per Hanzo’s orders radio chatter was kept to a minimum. It did not stop conversation to bubble up after important information was relayed. Simply reduced it. Zenkichi broke the silence. “McCree, two uniformed men are heading in your direction. Stash your gun. They look like police.” 

“I am not stashing my gun,” McCree scowled over the communication line. “What is the likelihood of police actually patrolling this far from mainstreet?” 

“It’s not unheard of,” Hiro’s accented English answered. “Don’t worry, McCree. I’ve got visual on you. You won’t loose your gun.” 

“I’m not worried about loosing my gun. I’m worried about Robin Hood up there that likes to take potshots at guys six inches from my head.” Hanzo arched an eyebrow as he listened to McCree’s description. He had not thought about the impression that encounter had left on the cowboy. “And me not being able to retaliate.” 

Hanzo rolled his eyes at the comment. He was already darting across roofs. Leaping across a small gap between two neighboring warehouses. “Secure your gun and holster, McCree. Should they be police, your weapon will be cause for alarm. We have visual.” 

“Then you get your butt down here and let me take potshots at men six inches from your face,” McCree grumbled. From his vantage point, Hanzo watched as the gunslinger tucked his revolver into the back of his jeans under his leather jacket. He also removed the holster and let it drop behind a trashcan. 

“If these are representatives of the unknown organization, they will be looking for us. Not an American.” Hanzo explained tiredly. 

“Sure. Easy for you to say.” The cowboy muttered. His voice was quieter, indicating that he now saw the two uniformed individuals walking towards him. Hanzo could hear muffled Japanese through McCree’s microphone. The biker chose to imitate an American tourists lost among the strange streets. “Um, _hotelu wa doko desuka?_ ” Hanzo winced as McCree’s drawl carried the delicate vowels of Japanese with all the care of a pickup truck speeding over a gravel road. More muffled conversation. This time Hanzo did not recognize it. “Shit. These ain’t police!” 

Several things happened in an instant. McCree dropped low to make himself a smaller target. Two gunshots echoed among the narrow alleyways between the buildings. A dagger blossomed through one man’s neck and an arrow protruded through the other’s skull. Then silence returned to the world. _”Time to get out of here.”_ Hiro called over the radio. _”The gunshots would alert the actual police.”_

“Alright, Princess. Time for you get down here and clean up the bodies this time.” McCree plopped down on the ground, leaning against the trashcan. “Fuck.” The cowboy winced as he tried to remove the jacket. Instead he tore the large red bandana from his neck and pressed it against his left shoulder under the jacket. 

Hanzo narrowed his eyes as he watched the gunslinger. He was already softly padding down the alley towards them. The man had been hit by the unknown’s bullets. Hiro’s call returned the ninja’s attention back to the incident. _“Aniki, they know we’re here.”_ His cousin held an earbud in his open palm. 

Taking the electronic, Hanzo placed it in his own ear. “I assume you are the ones disrupting our business.” His voice was hard and unforgiving when dealing with their targets. 

An unfamiliar and heavy accent mangled the English emitted through the communication device. “We are. You must be from the Shimadas.” 

“We are,” Hanzo saw no reason not to confirm this assumption. “Two things can happen next: A discussion about current events or outright warfare between our respective parties. I can tell you that a discussion is preferred before things dissolve into warfare.” 

Silence met his declaration. For a moment he wondered if his conversation partner had abandoned the conversation. Then the clipped authoritative English returned. Hanzo knew from the voice alone that the man on the other end was not a native English speaker and was used to giving orders. “Are you a decision maker within the Shimada Clan?” 

“I am.” 

“Two months to the day. Meet here. We will talk.” 

“Come near our warehouses before then and our talks will not be pleasant,” Hanzo warned coldly. 

The resulting laugh was not what he expected. Full throated and joyful. “I look forward to it. Akande.” 

“Hanzo,” he returned the brief introduction. “Two months to the day.” Then the communication line went dead. The heir to the Shimada Clan crushed the earbud just incase the other side wanted to listen in later. _”Zenkichi, get the equipment packed up and prepare the aerial transport. Tell the communications director that McCree is injured, we need the doctor, and to inform my father that we have a name. As well as a good faith agreement that this organization will not attack our warehouses for two months.”_ Hanzo watched Hiro clean up the death scene. He turned his attention to McCree. “How bad is it?” He readjusted his bow as he bent over to pick up the revolver. 

“Hey, what are you doing!” the gunslinger shifted to reach for his gun, but groaned as his shoulder wound protested the movement. 

“Securing your weapon.” Hanzo tucked the revolver into the leather holster and hung it over his shoulder. Kneeling next to the cowboy, Hanzo roughly pulled the jacket and the vest back to view the gunshot wound. He completely ignored the pain filled protests from the cowboy. “Quiet. We have morphine on the transport, but I need to know how bad it is.” He was encouraged that the wound seemed to be a surface grazing. An elongated heavily bleeding area was under the soaked bandana. Hanzo returned the cloth and applied pressure. Because of the broad brimmed hat, the ninja could not see McCree’s face. He imagined it was pinched in pain. 

Hiro finished with disposing of the bodies and brought over a limited first aid kit. The younger Shimada readied an absorbent dressing. Between the three of them, McCree was divested of the leather outerwear. Hanzo cleaned away what blood he could with a new sterile cloth and Hiro immediately placed the dressing. They waited a few seconds to ensure that the medical bandage would do its job before standing. Hanzo offered his right hand to McCree to assist him up. 

The cowboy grimaced. This time Hanzo did not see pain in the face. The emotion was more akin to annoyance. He filed this away to ask about later. McCree did reach out and gripped Hanzo’s right hand. The American’s weight was heavy against his effort. The shoulder injury must have caused more trouble than their initial investigation informed them. McCree accepted his gun and holster. He slung it over his right shoulder. Hiro led the way towards the helipad where their transport waited. 

Hanzo glanced up and saw Sora covering their retreat. It was seamless teamwork. Despite the incident, Hanzo felt that they were successful. And even the cowboy had preformed admirably. His gunshot had landed in the chest of the enemy gunman. That man would have died regardless of the dagger to his throat. Folding the leather clothing into a tight bundle, Hanzo made his way to the transport as well. 

Zenkichi was going through the preflight checks. He must have already radioed Hanamura and had clearance with a flight path. It was important for them to be able to fly undetected by the Japanese military. Between their stealth technology and computer hackers, most all of Shimada’s clandestine transportation remained unnoticed. By the time Hanzo stepped into the small hovercraft, Hiro was giving McCree a shot of morphine deep into the right shoulder muscle. Sora was the last to arrive as the others were strapping in for the long flight back. 

Stowing his weapons, Sora attempted to see if the American was asleep. Encouraged by the deep regular breathing, Hanzo’s cousin commented, _”I like him. I don’t like that I owe Genji a week’s worth of ramen, but the cowboy is impressive.”_

Hanzo groaned. _”What is Genji right about?”_

His cousin chuckled softly. _”That he won’t back down and is a smartass that can rival even you.”_

_”Remind me to kill my brother when we return.”_

_“But that wasn’t what the bet was about.”_ Sora bit his lip to keep from laughing aloud. Hanzo sent him a withering stare as encouragement to continue. _”It was that he would call you out directly for not doing the dirty work.”_

Hanzo leaned back in his seat. _”A week’s worth of ramen for that? I think my brother is better at swindling than I have given him credit for. Perhaps a couple of days worth at the most.”_ He listened to his cousin chuckle. Hanzo had no idea that Genji speculated on other people’s activities. He knew his brother liked to interfere with and speculate on Hanzo’s life. The ninja leaned back and attempted to get some sleep. Apparently Genji partook in these absurd bets same as McCree. The cowboy must have complained about the first mission together and Genji used his own knowledge to one up their cousin. But what stood out to Hanzo was that his cousin admitted to liking the American. The gregarious and friendly cowboy was making quite the impression among the younger Shimada family members. The Elders did not trust the deadly American biker. Hanzo wondered which group would prevail. 

{}}}}{{{{} 

Over the next two months McCree healed and added lightweight body armor to his chest after the fourth close encounter. Hanzo had a mind to complain. It would make the already slow cowboy even slower, but he could not discount the fact that because McCree was often at the frontline of their violent encounters the armor made sense. 

Though Hanzo had provided the Shimada Clan with a name the investigation into the enemy organization was slow. Akande’s name brought up a Nigerian band of outlaws with a leader who claimed the title Doomfist. That name provided no end of amusement from Genji who said it sounded like the villain from his Saturday morning cartoons. But the raiders were no joke. They were violent and messy. Only staying ahead of the law by reputation of cruelty. Akande was apparently the heir presumptive. They were finding evidence of a shadow organization courting the band of raiders. But no name. 

Hanzo spent his time outside of the missions practicing his archery. Occasionally his sword against Genji. Those were few as his little brother quickly tired of loosing but refused to put in the effort to improve. Hanzo himself was embroiled deeper into the workings of their Clan. Because he was a highly skilled ninja, Hanzo claimed prominence with each successful return. And since he was the heir to the clan, he could make the difficult decisions usually only reserved for the oyabun. Sojiro Shimada encouraged this. The Elders had no choice but to accept. Hanzo himself refused to think about how he was using these missions as a way to avoid thinking about his father’s condition. The missions took his entire concentration and left no room for grief. And he enjoyed the excursions beyond Hanamura. The more missions he took the less patience he had with the council meetings. 

Also to their frustration, Hanzo took the American with him on most of these outings. The heir explained that the potential danger of the Deadock Rebel was greatest when within Hanamura surrounded by their highly skilled ninjas and the Elders themselves. McCree could do the most damage if he remained in the castle. While traveling the biker had only Hanzo or a small collection of other ninjas as targets. The council of older men seemed placated to hear that Hanzo was attempting to protect their lives. Hanzo could care less. He continued because traveling with McCree was entertaining and the man was good at his job. 

Hanzo continued because life was more exciting outside Hanamura. McCree was both frustrating and interesting. A curious blend of personality that Hanzo could not pin down. Sometimes childish, sometimes deadly. Almost never in between. 

With only days from their meeting with Akande in Tomakomai seaport, the Shimada intelligence department finally discovered another name. Talon. From there a wealth of information started to trickle in. It was a very isolated organization. Growing in power. Building upon the hatred of Omnics. Hanzo did not understand that last point as he felt that Omnics were just as important to society as the humans who had created them. They made excellent wakaishou. According to the Clan’s bylaws they could not become part of the family, but Hanzo trusted them. 

They also learned that Akande was low on the hierarchy of the leaders of Talon. But at least when the day came to meet with Talon’s representative, Hanzo felt better prepared. He boarded the transport with McCree in tow. His team of Sora, Zenkichi and Hiro were already on board. They would provide backup. This was a good faith conversation. Not a declaration of war. 

Of note was the silence of the American during the entire trip. Hanzo knew it was not related to incident of being shot last time. The man had joked about it plenty with the young ninjas and even with Genji. This was the silence of a man concerned about the outcome of the mission. One where he could not guarantee the ending. Where McCree bet on all sorts of things, he was remarkably consistent in his confidence on the battlefield. Apparently negotiation was not within his scope of practice. He sat with the ugly brown hat over his face and right fingers idly tracing the lines of his revolver’s hilt. Hanzo let him be. He trusted the cowboy’s instincts almost as much as he trusted his own. 

Once the hovercraft landed, the team of ninjas took their positions and Hanzo led the way through the alleys to the docks. Midnight had firm grip on the skies. Clouds hid the stars and the New Moon reigned above. The brisk sea wind ripped through their clothing, chilling their skin. McCree scowled and hugged the leather jacket tighter. He tugged his hat lower. He did not have a joking quip to lighten the tension. He was on full alert. Eyes darted to every shadow. 

Hanzo soon learned why. Despite their attempts to arrive as early as weather and surveillance allowed, Talon had arrived first. A tall muscular black man that matched the image sent by Los Muertos stood at the far edge of the dock. Hanzo put a name to the face. Akande. Two men, also speculated to be African in origin, flanked him. Both held rifles where Akande stood weaponless. McCree was concerned that the assumed good faith was rotten. His partner watched for possible hidden strikes, allowing Hanzo to focus on the men in front. Hanzo had learned not to discount McCree’s gut feeling. 

The wooden pier creaked with each step. The set path led them farther from shore. Hanzo soon saw that Akande’s team had come by boat. The black man grinned and opened his arms wide as if welcoming new friends. “Hanzo Shimada. I should be honored that you came yourself.” 

The heir to the Shimada Clan gave a curt nod in acknowledgement. McCree had stopped less than a pace behind his right shoulder. Out of the way of Hanzo’s drawn katana range and with a clear shot for his own revolver. Currently the Storm Bow was shouldered. The ninja was determined to make this into nothing more than talks, despite the tenseness radiating from the gunslinger. “Akande Ogundimu. To be honest I was expecting someone more important to Talon when you asked if I was capable of making decisions.” 

“You need to dig deeper into your research. You will find yourself surprised.” Akande’s grin widened, exposing his white teeth. They flashed brilliantly in the scant light and against the dark skin. “Now, what did you want to talk about?” 

“Why is Talon interfering with our merchandise? Why do they not attempt to open a communication channel to purchase what they need?” 

“The rumors do not lie. You are direct.” Akande shrugged. “That I cannot answer. I follow my instructions. But we are after more than simple illegal trade. You could always join us and find out for yourself.” The creak of leather behind him stopped the African’s offer. The wide smile vanished and his eyes narrowed onto the sharpshooter. “I see you brought someone who does not agree. Did Hopkins tell you to kill me the moment we met? Won’t change anything. If anything it means the Deadlock Rebels will be the first to go.” 

Hanzo risked a glance behind him. He was greeted by the sight of McCree gripping his gun tightly in his right hand. The gun was still holstered but that could change in less than a second. The cowboy had waved off any attempt to ask him what his boss had ordered. If this was true then Hanzo was at risk. And that Hanzo had failed to gain all of the information required. “McCree,” he warned. “Now is not the time.” Akande was not in charge of Talon and his death would not cause trouble. They needed to be able to reach the true leaders. The cowboy’s muscles relaxed minutely, but enough where Hanzo could return his attention to the African. “I am afraid joining you is not currently an option. I take it you will continue to cause us trouble in the future.” 

“If you call obtaining what we need trouble, then I am afraid so.” 

“I see.” Hanzo released a frustrated sigh. His eyes pinned the two men flanking Akande. They had stepped back in preparation to board the boat. If Hanzo had walked into a trap… “You can tell your bosses that the Shimadas will not take kindly to theft of our goods. However we will be willing to negotiate a price for whatever it is you require.” 

“I will relate your message. Though this does make my next move all the more difficult. I do think that we could work well together, Hanzo. Don’t think of this too harshly. Talon just does not want you to follow. And McCree looks ready to strike.” Akande stepped back. McCree drew and fired at the same instant the world went white and exploded at their feet. A concussion bomb must have been under the boards of the pier. Hanzo knew nothing else as he held his breath and waited for the cold seawater to envelope him. 

The explosion knocked them off the pier into the deep water of the harbor. Their mission here was done. His team should have heard the blast. Hanzo swam towards the surface quickly. The freezing water seeped into his bones, slowing his movements. He needed to know if their target was going to continue to fire at them or run away. He saw a boat speeding away and was satisfied that he and McCree could recuperate from this failure. With Akande fleeing, Hanzo turned his attention to his partner. 

Who was nowhere in sight. It would be difficult anyway to find the black clad cowboy in this dark water on a moonless night. But fear gripped Hanzo’s heart when he did not see any sign of the gunslinger. “McCree?” He called, treading water furiously. With the armor the man insisted on wearing to the jeans and boots that only made swimming worse, Hanzo worried that his partner would have trouble staying above water for a long period of time. Not to mention the icy water that threatened the health of even the strongest swimmer. Then a thought that froze Hanzo’s heart. Could the cowboy even swim? “McCree!” he hollered frantically twisting in the water, searching for any sign of the gunslinger. 

All thoughts of the recent meeting flew from his mind as finding the gregarious cowboy took priority. His sword and bow twisted awkwardly with him as he treaded water, desperate for any sign of the man in the low rolling tide. 

The hideous hat floated into his line of sight just a short distance away. Hanzo dove towards it. He didn’t have much time. The cowboy came from a desert. Chances were slim that he knew how to swim. But the gentle waves around him were eerily silent. Except for the blood pounding in his ears, Hanzo heard nothing. He swam to the hat and continued his scan of the water. “McCree! Jesse! JESSE!” 

He saw it. A dark brown head bobbing in the water. His arms struggling to push his head up and failing to truly surface. Hanzo surged towards his partner and saw no sign of leg movement. And hair draped over a glassy eyed expression instead of the normally cheerful grin. Instinct. The cowboy was trying to stay above water on instinct and was failing. Drowning. Hanzo grabbed the larger man before he could dip below the waterline again. “I’ve got you, Jesse,” Hanzo said more to himself than the unresisting body in his arms. He cradled Jesse’s back to his own chest and let the hairy head rest on his shoulder. 

Struggling to swim with the heavy, waterlogged cowboy in his arm, Hanzo aimed for the nearest shore. A concrete boat slip. His arms and legs ached by the time he reached it. His adrenaline was fading. The ocean sapped his energy with every stroke. McCree had not responded at all during the swim. Hanzo could not detect a breath. He was busy keeping them both from going under. “Come on, Jesse. Stay with me.” His voice filled with fear. He hated it. 

He dropped the body onto the concrete. No. The cowboy. Jesse McCree. This was not a body. But Jesse was not breathing. Hanzo ripped the bandana from the man’s neck and placed his fingers at McCree’s neck. A pulse. Hanzo breathed again. There was a thready pulse. Not strong, but there. Possibly on decline. “Not now, Jesse!” Hanzo furiously searched for the release of the chest plate. He threw it aside. His own bow and quiver joined the armor to give himself more freedom of motion. He surprised himself with his own surge of energy and desperation. 

In a motion he had practiced but never thought he’d preform, Hanzo placed his hands on Jesse’s chest and pushed down. Pushed hard. Pushed fast. 

His arms burned from the swim but adrenaline coursed through him at the thought of loosing his partner. This cowboy that had entered his life and completely upset its order. He pushed and counted. He could not loose this man. He would not! 

Water dribbled out of Jesse’s mouth. No other movement. Hanzo moved his hands to Jesse’s head. He tilted it back, opened the mouth and breathed into the man. Cold, wet, salty lips did not resist his hands. Did not move when his own sealed around them. His own hot breath intensified the salty taste. Hanzo wanted to gag. He was breathing into a dying man. A second breath forced the ribcage to expand. 

Then back to the chest. Hanzo’s sole focus right now was to count and breathe for his partner. It was the only chance. He could not think about the lack of response. Or the repugnant taste of salt. From the chest to the mouth. Back to the chest. Then a crack as a rib could not handle the stress. The sound dropped a lead weight into Hanzo’s belly. The yield on Jesse’s chest because of it boiled his tears to the surface. Already burning from the ocean, Hanzo felt his eyes prickle with more salt. 

Each switch tightening the vice around Hanzo’s already constricted heart. How many times had it been? Dare he call emergency services? How much longer until the police arrived to investigate the noise? Did he stop and call his clan’s recovery team? Or did he keep at it? Had two minutes passed? How much time did he have? 

He couldn’t even find the breath to encourage Jesse to come back to him. It all went into the rescue breaths. He suppressed a shutter each time his mouth sealed around the cold clammy lips of the cowboy. 

Then finally, after unknown rounds of compressions and breaths, Jesse coughed. Relief coursed through Hanzo. A hot shudder running down his spine. Jesse coughed and tried to sit up. Hanzo wanted to pull him into a celebratory hug, but his training knew better. Hanzo helped Jesse turn to his side and Hanzo kept the man safe as Jesse coughed up water. Then a violent convulsion and vomit. Dry heaves and coughing, struggling to catch his breath. More vomit. This was good. 

Hanzo grabbed the forgotten bandana and wiped Jesse’s mouth of the bile and saltwater. “Relax, Jesse. Focus on breathing.” Hanzo brushed the hair from Jesse’s face and waited. His heart had already occupied his throat for most of the incident. At least the pile of stones in his stomach was finally leaving. “How are you feeling?” 

“Ugh….” Jesse groaned in response. Hanzo could wait. His partner was breathing on his own and his heart was beating on its own. Flopping to his back, Jesse gazed up at the sky blankly. “Awful,” was his final conclusion. 

“I suspect you would. Stay there. I have to see if my phone survived the water.” Hanzo took a deep steadying breath. They would survive this. Jesse would survive this. From the corner of his eyes he saw Jesse try to sit up. “Stay put.” Hanzo firmly pushed the cowboy back down. “You nearly drowned and I don’t want further complications.” 

“You’re not lying in your own vomit.” Jesse groaned. Hanzo managed a smile. His partner was back. 

“We’ll clean you up soon enough.” Hanzo tossed the bandana back at the cowboy and finally dug the phone from his bag. Thankfully the soak had not destroyed the technology. He contacted his family. Sora answered. In quick Japanese Hanzo demanded retrieval. _“Yes the mission failed. We were knocked into the water and McCree nearly drowned. We need transportation and medical attention.”_ He hung up before his cousin could ask anything more. 

“A doctor? I ain’t that bad.” Jesse tried to smile but weariness and coughing ruined his attempt at bravado. 

“Yes, you are.” Hanzo settled next to him and looked out over at the harbor that nearly took his friend. He also was trying to figure out when McCree had become his friend. This time when Jesse sat up, Hanzo did not stop him. 

Water lapped at their legs. Hanzo had not taken them far from the water. Time was too crucial for that. He closed his eyes and dropped his head into his hands. So much had happened in the space of minutes. He glanced up as he heard water splashing. McCree was pouring water from his boots. Hanzo simply watched. Too tired for anything else. Jesse was slow, still coughing. Gloves and socks were stuffed into the boots. More armor dropped to the concrete. Finally the leather jacket and vest. 

“Do you know bow to swim?” Hanzo asked finally. 

“No.” Jesse answered honestly. He couldn’t really deny it now. “Never needed to before.” 

“We’re going to have to teach you.” Hanzo decided. Jesse grimaced but said nothing. “Not right away of course.” That got a small snort of amusement from the cowboy. Silence as they waited for the transport. 

“You called me Jesse.” McCree turned with a tired lopsided grin. 

Hanzo had not expected the cowboy to hear him during the near drowning episode. He stated, “I did.” He couldn’t very well deny it. 

“That means we’re friends now. No more calling me McCree unless it’s for the job.” 

Hanzo sighed. There was something different in him. The word ‘friends’ was not satisfying his feelings. He had been frantic to find Jesse. The sense of foreboding that had consumed him upon finding Jesse drowning did not sit well with the word ‘friends.’ The sheer terror at the thought of loosing the cowboy was greater than simply ‘friends.’ In the panic of the moment he had not had the luxury of time to analyze those feelings. Now in the aftermath it was clear to him they were clearly stronger than the word ‘friend’ suggested. 

“Jesse…” Hanzo started then frowned. What if the man did not feel the same? What if any attempt at being friends would be ruined? His heart jumped back into his throat at the thoughts. He tried to swallow it down. It didn't work. “Jesse,” he tried again. It was easier but the pile of stones had transformed into anxious butterflies. “I think… I think ‘friends’ is not the right word.” 

“What do you mean?” Jesse’s grin slipped into a puzzled frown. Without his hat the cowboy looked wrong. Younger and more vulnerable. Perhaps it was just the slick damp hair. 

“I mean…” What did he mean? Hanzo had never had trouble finding words before. This was new to him. “I think I might feel… something stronger… towards you.” Hanzo forced the vague words out. Lead replaced the butterflies. Hanzo wished his emotions would stop fluctuating through the extremes. 

McCree ran his left hand through his hair and stared out at the water. The man was obviously thinking. It was a lot to throw onto a man recovering from a near drowning. Hanzo should have known better. But if he had not said anything now, he likely would never say anything in the future. 

“Welp,” McCree turned to face Hanzo now that he had made a decision. “We’re not going to figure anything out siting out here soaked to the bone.” Jesse pushed himself to standing and held out his left hand to Hanzo. “I’m willing to explore what this ‘something’ is if you are.” Jesse favored him with an easygoing smile. Hanzo felt a fond smile tug at his mouth in return. He accepted the hand and felt the rough callous dig into his own as he accepted the assistance to stand. Instead Hanzo had the greater strength and pulled the idiot cowboy back to the concrete. The move surprised the man but he relented and settled to Hanzo’s other side. Away from the pile of vomit. Nor did he let go of Hanzo’s left hand. 

As the grip lingered, Hanzo felt a fluttering from his heart and tried unsuccessfully to will it to be still. He knew he should not be feeling anything but suspicion towards this Deadlock Rebel. This man had been sent as both a sign of an alliance and as a weapon to kill them. A sacrifice Deadlock was willing to make to kill as many in the Shimada Clan as they could should the two parties reach a violent disagreement. 

“I would like that,” Hanzo managed before a car roared down the boat slip. The archer schooled his face to a neutral displeasure as he let go of McCree’s hand. The cowboy still coughed more frequently than Hanzo thought was normal, but that was why they were sending him to the doctor. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two things:
> 
> One, I think you'll be interested to know that the near drowning scene was one of the first scene I wrote following my McHanzo Week entry. And it is what set the tone for the rest of the story. You can read the original piece in my _Treasure Box of Memories_ Chapter Two: Criminal Alliance. And now I find it highly ironic that McCree from the desert has the Life Guard Skin.
> 
> Two, A pet peeve from a medical professional. CPR is not romantic. It is frantic and revolting. You would be hard pressed to put your lips on someone else's unless you truly cared for that person. And the only emotions felt are desperation, anxiety and finally exhaustion. Relief if successful or remorse if not. In my opinion it is far more interesting in discovering a character's limitations.


	6. Bargaining with Skulls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's someone else's turn to be a little shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoy reading, this one turned out much longer than expected. There was just so much that fit under the chosen title. And you deserved a bit of fun after what I pulled last chapter.

**Chapter 6: Bargaining with Skulls**

“May I join you?” Hanzo stepped off the stairs into the small isolated garden that looked over the city. McCree already had residence to smoke. Their doctor had chided him about smoking while on antibiotic treatment to prevent pneumonia. Of course the cowboy did not listen. The near drowning could have been much worse and Hanzo was glad for the outcome they had.

Jesse motioned to the patch of wall next to him. Hanzo took a seat on Jesse’s left. He had pieced together the fact that McCree did not like to have his right hand encumbered. Neither spoke while Jesse finished his cigarette. Neither had made any effort since that first night of Hanzo’s confession and request to explore that undefined ‘something.’ Mostly because Jesse needed to heal. The drowning related cough seemed to finally disappear. And secondary was Hanzo’s hesitancy to broach the subject.

That was over a week ago. Nearing the completion of a second. The sun blared down on them with full force. The cowboy looked incomplete now that his hat was missing. That was the reason the ninja had sought the American out. “Neither your hat, nor your gun was found,” Hanzo stated bluntly, lacking any other words to soften the blow. “The foot soldiers scoured the pier and surrounding seawall. Except for sending divers in broader search patterns, there is little chance of finding either.”

The cowboy shrugged. He opened his cigarette box then frowned. Closing it with a sigh, he tucked it back into his breast pocket. “It’s just a gun and a hat.” Judging the man’s reaction to the words, Hanzo believed that they were more than simple items.

“But they were yours and because of me they are lost.”

“That’s alright, darling.” McCree managed a gentle smile. “You saved what was important.” A warm hand came to rest on Hanzo’s. He glanced up and saw that Jesse’s smile only grew. “Besides, no one would believe that the perfect prince was at fault for anything.” It was as if those tentative words spoken on the damp concrete boat slip had unleashed a flood of attention. The cowboy never seemed to have difficulty saying what was on his mind, but now it reached a new level that the elder Shimada son had no way of expecting. 

Hanzo snorted in trying to contain his chuckle. Where before such a statement would aggravate him, now he recognized the sarcasm in the slow drawl. “My brother would. According to him everything I do is wrong. And I believe I told you not to call me by any of those pet names. Just because I asked to explore the nature of our relationship does not mean I enjoy listening to those ridiculous names.” Because there was no hat to hide McCree’s expression, the exasperation and exaggerated eye roll met with the archer’s raised eyebrows. 

“Alright!” the cowboy threw up his hands in playful surrender. “Have it your way. But I warn ya, it might not stick.” The ninja simply gave the half smile and shook his head in amusement. It was such a different world now. Giving into the playful antics of the American. It was freeing. Hanzo was beginning to understand why Genji and their cousins enjoyed the man’s company. He was easy to get along with. Eager to have a good time. And when times were right, always ready to laugh. It reminded Hanzo of better times in his family. A time when he and Genji were much younger and their laughter rang through the halls of the castle.

Having completely ruined his internal mood, Hanzo drew Jesse’s left arm into his lap and finally started to study the tattoo that had itched his curiosity ever since the cowboy had arrived. He traced the skull and wings over a padlock of the Deadlock Rebels. The simple line art had a beauty to it. It reminded Hanzo of the ancient pirate flags with the skull and crossbones. This one marked Jesse as belonging to a different gang. One he had sworn loyalty to in order to receive the mark. The Shimada Clad had similar tattoos for their followers. “When did you get this?” he asked, not really expecting an answer. It was simply one question that he had always wanted to ask but never had a reason or situation where it made sense.

Jesse allowed him to continue to study the tattoo. “Got the belt buckle first. Probably around fourteen or fifteen. Was already running with the gang then. A group of them got into an argument with a rival gang. They were outnumbered. I grabbed a gun and started shooting. Had decent aim by that time by playing with pebbles and slingshots. Got a number, mostly injured but enough for the rest to turn the tables on them. It was stupid, but I wanted to prove that I could do it. Be on their level, you know? One wanted to shoot me right there. Didn’t want anyone knowing they had almost gotten killed. The others said that the boss needed to meet me. With aim like that, they said I could be real good. Boss laughed at the story. Said if I could do that after only using pebbles then he would teach me how to shoot proper like. Got the belt buckle to prove I was part of the gang. Was sixteen when the boss thought I was ready to move up. That’s when I got the tattoo. I was their sharpshooter. Killed more guys for them than they had ever seen. Kept their operation running because of that.”

“So you were basically a foot soldier.”

Jesse wrinkled his nose in disgust. “Hell no. Not any more, anyway. Wouldn’t be here if I were a basic foot soldier.” He twined his fingers into Hanzo’s and his expression softened. “Did get good at identifying the guns they stole.”

“Ah, so a weapons expert. I’m surprised they sent you here.”

“Boss said they wanted to set up a good impression of their skills and assets.”

Hanzo nodded. It was the line he was familiar with. He was tempted to ask what Tony Hopkins had ordered McCree to do the night they met Akande. Hanzo refrained, as he was not ready to ruin the moment. He continued to hold Jesse’s hand, content with the motion for now. That Jesse was not protesting helped. He knew the cowboy would protest should he not like something. Their arguments had been enlightening. He doubted those would end. Whatever he felt towards the gunslinger would not take away his own ability to be stubborn. 

“Well, you will need a new gun if you are to continue here. As I was responsible for its loss, I will replace it.” Hanzo stated firmly as if he were only just then making a decision.

“That’s mighty kind of you, but I’ve become rather particular about my gun.”

Hanzo rolled his eyes. “I’ve noticed. Come,” He stood and tugged at Jesse’s arm from where they still held hands. “I’m not replacing it with anything off the shelf.” Jesse levered himself off the ground and suddenly Hanzo was reminded at how tall the cowboy was. Their hands remained linked between. It was strange but nice. “Come, I think you’ll like where we’re going.” Hanzo reluctantly let go of the warmth and led the way towards the city. He was not quite prepared for anyone else to know about his interest.

Hanamura was not overly large. But as a resort town its population grew dramatically in the spring and summer. Right now as the season rolled past its peak, the last summer crowds were lingering. The streets were a collection of locals and visitors rather than the mass of tourists in the spring. Those would return when the color changed in the leaves. Hanzo wove through the people with ease, though he had to wait on occasion while the bulkier man struggled to slide through small crowds of people. Finally they ended up at a warehouse. It was on the opposite side of the village from where he escorted the cowboy to the gun range. For good reason too. The last thing he had wanted McCree to know then was where they kept his revolver and the rest of their armory. 

The sign indicated that it belonged to Matsu Industries. Just one of the front businesses his father had. The dull gray façade blended in with the other legitimate buildings. Hanzo waited impatiently by the door after pushing the comm. 

“What are we doing here?” McCree asked.

“I told you,” Hanzo frowned and pushed the intercom again. They knew he was coming so why the delay. “To replace your weapon.”

 _”Shimada-sama! Forgive me for the delay._ the high pitched mechanical voice blurred even more over the intercom.

 _”That is fine, Suzuki. Just open the door._ The gray metal door zipped open and Hanzo confidently strode through. The cowboy trailed behind, eyeing the empty corridor. When the main entrance closed, a second door opened with a soft whoosh. This one revealed a brightly lit room with a tall Omnic in a lush red kimono with a brilliant gold obi standing behind holographic displays. Those displays betrayed that Suzuki had been distracted with her work. The languages on the screen were a blend of Omnic and Japanese. This was one of the most prominent minds in weapon creation. Maiko Suzuki. He had asked the feminine leaning Omnic to guide them around the manufacturing plant but it seemed she had become distracted with her own work. “Suzuki, I’d like to introduce Jesse McCree.”

“Hmm?” There was a moment where Hanzo could see the blink of the five lights on her forehead as she transitioned from Japanese to fluent English. “Ah, Mr. McCree. I have learned so much from being able to house your revolver among the other treasured weapons of the Shimada Clan.” Suzuki stepped through the holographic screens and they suddenly vanished. She held her hand towards the cowboy who beheld her in what Hanzo could only describe as shock. Suzuki hesitantly withdrew her silver hand as she recognized the expression. “Am I correct in assuming that you are from an area that does not see many Omnics?”

McCree sheepishly rubbed his left hand through his hair and shrugged. “To be bluntly honest, ma’am, where I’m from they chop up Omnics and sell them for parts.” There did not need to be facial expressions on the humanoid robot. Her mannerism and body language clearly betrayed her shock. Jesse attempted to smooth things over immediately. “I ain’t saying its right or that I agree with them. Just that’s what’s done. So no… I ain’t never seen a working Omnic before.”

Suzuki nodded, composing herself regally. “I see. I do realize there are still humans out there with such sentiments. I suppose I am lucky in that I am able to live among those who are more inclusive. Still, it is an honor to meet you, Mr. McCree. I found your revolver fascinating and was greatly sadden to hear of its loss. When young Mr. Shimada mentioned that you would need a replacement I struggled to determine what would best suit you. Meeting you in person, I am certain we will be capable of finding you an appropriate weapon. Please, follow me.” The feminine Omnic turned and with delicate silver fingers lit up the blank white wall with color before the wall slid open to reveal a massive workshop. Her red kimono highlighted her beautifully as she glided through the tables and machines. This was her domain. The humans and Omnics greeted her warmly.

“You could have warned me,” McCree bit out harshly as they entered the workshop.

Hanzo simply raised one eyebrow and turned away. “Most people do not begin a polite conversation by talking about dismemberment and death. A simple no would have sufficed.” From a side glance, the ninja watched McCree scowl and clearly contain any opinion that came to mind. “I would not warn you when introducing you to my family or associates. Why would it be any different with an Omnic?”

“Probably so I wouldn’t shove my foot down my throat,” Jesse grumbled. He hunched his shoulders and dug his thumbs into his pockets. Far too many issues to go into now. Hanzo could only hope that the new revolver would cast away the dark emotions. Even as they walked through the workshop, Jesse’s eyes kept darting through the different tables where weapons were being assembled. He was clearly enthralled with the process. The guns of course caught his attention. When the gunslinger finally lifted his head enough to take in the entire environment, his head swiveled to a massive display case to their right. Immediately he started walking towards it. Hanzo was not fast enough to catch his arm.

“Jesse!” he called exasperated. “We are not here to look at museum pieces.” Hanzo stopped himself from trying to bring the cowboy back to reality when he saw the look of wide-eyed wonder on the man’s face. Before them were ancient weapons. Swords, bows, pikes, axes, and of course guns. Rifles, revolvers, pistols. They were all in different levels of restoration. From cultures around the world.

“They are amazing, aren’t they,” Suzuki said gently from behind. McCree simply nodded. He had migrated to the early single shot muskets. “I restore them for various museums and collectors. Needless to say Shimada-oyabun is among the largest collector of such items. His tastes lean more towards traditional Japanese weaponry. I find them all fascinating.” The kimono clad Omnic stepped up beside the cowboy and keyed the energy barrier down, giving them a better view. She motioned to an empty shelf and wooden rack. “This is where we housed your revolver when not in use.”

“My gun?” McCree’s brow furrowed, obviously not processing the reasoning behind Suzuki’s words.

“Yes. I’m not saying it was a museum piece, but I could read the history on it. It was well used. Well cared for. It only seemed right to house it among other legendary weapons.”

“But it is just a gun.”

“Is it?” Maiko tilted her head as if to convey disbelief. “Who gave it to you?”

There was a pause as McCree considered his answers. Or at least which answers might be more appropriate. “Boss Hopkins.”

“And did he have a story to go with it?” McCree only nodded, choosing not to elaborate in front of the Omnic. Suzuki did not seem deterred that her question remained unanswered. “And you have added to the story. When it is found, and I am almost certain it will be, whoever finds it might not know the story but it will be there. Shown in every dent, scrape, scuff and scratch on that gun. The over polished barrel and grip drenched in skin oil. Whether that story was made of great deeds or nefarious murders, that revolver will tell the world about its owners. That is why it had a place on this wall. I do not restore weapons to mint condition, Mr. McCree. I restore them so they can continue to tell their story. Sometimes that story includes a bit of rust or the occasional barnacle. I simply give them another life. Remove whatever caused their deterioration and in some cases make them functional again.”

The energy barrier returned. Maiko lifted her head slightly and her voice lilted pleasantly. “Come. I am sure young Mr. Shimada will be happy to bring you back to study these weapons. But you came here for another purpose. I have a few things I believe you will find just as interesting.” Then the red kimono was gliding through the tables again towards the back of the workshop.

Hanzo did not bother to hide his smug grin as he turned to follow her. “Don’t you even start,” Jesse warned as the taller man stepped behind him.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“I can hear it anyway.”

The archer glanced over his shoulder and was rewarded with a playfully annoyed cowboy rolling his eyes behind Hanzo’s back. “Maiko Suzuki is one of the world’s most gifted weapons designer. Restoring pieces for museums is her hobby. Her job is to make sure we have the most up to date weapons in our arsenal. And now yours.” They finally made it to the back of the warehouse to a table with multiple handguns on display.

The Omnic motioned to the table of six guns. “I tried to keep as close to your original as possible, but with artistic license and functionality upgrades. All are a revolvers but one. It is a semi-automatic pistol. I learned of your style through conversation with Mr. Shimada. I know it is not your preference, but I was curious to see if I could make a pistol that you would not turn down immediately.”

“You designed and made all these in two weeks?”

“Yes. Even started with prototypes. We are quite efficient and diligent.” Suzuki gave the impression of grinning. “Please, get a feel for them. This is a short indoor range. But good enough for you to understand how they handle.” Immediately McCree stepped up to the table and took the slender pistol in his hand, fondling the smooth silver grip. “Oh! Human ears. Here,” Suzuki produced two sets of muffling headsets. Hanzo immediately placed them on his head. Jesse shrugged though it was clear he was not fond of them. He did comply and immediately returned the semi-automatic pistol to his hand. Hanzo wondered if the cowboy was actually interested in the handgun or was just humoring their host. 

The ninja marveled at how similar Jesse handled the pistol to how he himself handled a new bow. Fingertips ran along the details, getting to know every detail. Gaging the weight in the right hand before ever sliding the trigger finger though the guard. He aimed the delicate appearing pistol towards the targets. Dry firing the piece several times as he adjusts for the differences in aim. Then slowly and carefully, as if it were the first time ever loading ammunition into a gun, Jesse slid the magazine into place.

The first shots were startling sharp in the previous silence. McCree fired several rounds with two hands then one hand. Adjusting his stance absently to brace against the recoil. When the magazine emptied, Jesse disengaged the clip and gave a small appreciative nod. Maiko Suzuki had done it. She had managed to make a pistol that the cowboy had not disregarded immediately. Hanzo did not think for a moment that Jesse would choose the semi-automatic. Not when there were five revolvers waiting on him.

And they watched. At first just Hanzo and Maiko. Then others gravitated towards the range. Only the automated assembly lines continued their work. The American was the star of another exhibition. One he did not realize was going on around him as he was absorbed in each gun. Hanzo knew that the entire workshop had some hand in making these weapons and each person wanted to know what the cowboy would think of them. The archer wondered what the betting pool was like as to which gun McCree would choose. And now with an audience of avid gunsmiths watching, Jesse McCree acquainted himself with each revolver. Slow and thorough. Memorizing every detail even if he never picked up that weapon again. He loaded the revolvers by hand though a speed loader was available. He fired with both hands and with one hand. No less than eighteen shots apiece. Though two had the honor of firing twenty-four. Those last six were done to test the ability to fire from drawing from the hip holster provided. As well as how fanning the hammer affected the shots. Gun number four and gun number six.

As Jesse placed the sixth revolver onto the table and removed the holster, his eyes kept glancing back to the fourth gun. He had tried every one offered and now he was making a decision. Hanzo watched as McCree’s eyes darted between the two weapons comparing the firing style in his mind. He heard whispers from the small audience of weapons manufacturers. Even Suzuki tilted her head curious as to the gunslinger’s decision. Jesse made them all wait as he picked up gun number four and started spinning it. The shiny silver barrel blurred to a circle. The white inlay on the grip whirled as an accent to the tricks the cowboy indulged in. It was a small winter whirlwind in Jesse’s hand. Though Hanzo had never thought much of these skills simply to show off, the small bite on McCree’s lower lip told the archer that this was not simply self-indulgence. The gunslinger was testing these revolvers for balance. The spinning stopped and Jesse pursed his lips, staring at the white gun in his hand. Clearly he like it, but something was not quite right.

Hesitantly he placed it back on the table and the whispering in the crowd dissipated. They returned to silent anticipation. Hanzo was able to see the cowboy glance back to the sixth gun. The gray metal of the barrel was dull compared to the brilliant silver of the previous one. This barrel was also wider, more stable than the fancy slender barrel of the white revolver. The grip was also more subdued in color. Black was predominant. Hints of red and gold glinted from the screws and joints. The glaringly obvious detail was a useless spur at the butt end of the grip. If that was even the right word to describe a revolver handle.

Then McCree started spinning that gun. Black and gray fused in the circles. The longer Jesse spun the revolver the less he bit his lip and the more his lips quirked up into a satisfied smile. Hanzo removed his earmuffs and set them next to the silver semi-automatic. He could hear the whispers clearer now. Not so much whispering as quiet murmuring now that his sense of sound was not muffled. McCree must have caught the motion out of the corner of his eye because he suddenly stopped his self-indulgent tricks with a sheepish smile. Hanzo tossed his gaze to the impromptu crowd and chuckled as Jesse gave a mock scowl and removed his own earmuffs. This was followed immediately by a comical bow.

The gunsmiths cheered and the workshop filled with applause. Maiko stepped forward. “I take it you have made a decision,” her mechanical voice definitely held amusement.

“Oh, um… yeah… She’s… impressive.” McCree hefted the revolver in his right hand already smiling at it fondly.

“I had my money on the white one. But then I probably should have known you would not fall in love with such delicate work.”

“Oh, no… don’t get me wrong. That one was amazing. A fancier version of my old one. Shoots way better though. Loved it the moment I held it. And it is damn beautiful. But it just didn’t feel right, ya know.” McCree babbled and Suzuki nodded patiently. “I just… Well I suppose I liked the way this one drew from the holster. Kinda jumped out. Eager.” Jesse’s eyes returned to the revolver in hand. An embarrassed smiled formed on his face. “And… I like the detail.”

The Omnic released a melodic chuckle. “Mr. Fugiwara will be pleased. He assisted me in the design of this one. He is an avid connoisseur of all things American Cowboy.” Hanzo watched as the biker rub the back of his head in embarrassment with his left hand. The dark gray gun with the red and gold spur rested comfortably in Jesse’s right hand. He would glance at it with fondness as if the weapon had been in his possession since childhood. Suzuki continued on as if she did not notice McCree’s adoration of the revolver. “Then this is yours. You may have noticed that the projectiles are more powerful than traditional gunpowder. It will give you slightly greater range and be more damaging at closer ranges. But overall the feel should not be greatly different than your previous revolver.”

“It’s a mighty fine revolver, Miss Suzuki.” McCree grinned. “They all are. Even that fancy pistol. Not something that would work for me, but handled well. You do amazing work.”

“Thank you, Mr. McCree. I am glad you approve. I hope your story will be an interesting one. And your weapon will have an honored place here.”

“And here is where it will stay unless needed.” Hanzo paused as the cowboy growled in frustration. The ninja calmly produced a foam-lined briefcase and opened it for receiving the revolver. “But for the rest of the day I believe there is time to go to the range for you to experiment with the new weapon.” That one statement brought the brilliant cheerful grin that Hanzo was accustomed to seeing on McCree’s face. He placed the revolver in the case. When Hanzo let Jesse hold the silver case, the cowboy’s grin grew and he waved to the Omnic before trotting towards the exit. The Shimada heir was left shaking his head in disbelief. _“Thank you, Suzuki. Your work as always has been beyond expectation.”_

The kimono clad Omnic bowed slightly in response. _“It is always a pleasure to make such works of art. I look forward to learning how he enjoys the revolver. And to show him some of the museum pieces one day.”_

 _“Of course.”_ Hanzo nodded and turned to follow the eager cowboy to the exit. He noticed that during their conversation the crowd of workers had dissipated back to their worktables. They had watched Jesse McCree until he was out of sight waiting for someone to open the door. Which was exactly where Hanzo found the man when he arrived at the blank white wall. Wordlessly he placed his right hand on a near invisible panel which then opened the wall. 

McCree hurried forward, “Come on, already.” Jesse called back when Hanzo was not keeping pace. 

“The range is not going anywhere. And there is plenty of time before dinner for you thoroughly enjoy your new revolver.” Hanzo’s lips quirked up in an indulgent smile as he spoke. Dealing with the American was far more interesting and pleasant than anything else Hanzo could be doing right then. Particularly after the past few weeks recovering from the failed meeting. The man was still aggravating at times but his charming personality usually won the day. Hanzo could now agree with Genji that this man did not act dangerous most of the time. Of course he would never admit that to his brother.

“Yeah, but now I have something to do!” Jesse led the way to the range once Hanzo opened the exterior door. Keeping up with the cowboy’s long legs was more difficult than Hanzo had expected. 

Once at the shooting range, Hanzo let Jesse do as he wished. The ninja had brought reading material as he always had during these sessions. But today he found himself watching the gunslinger more than usual. The pure joy that radiated from the American was infectious. And as Hanzo watched Jesse move from the traditional range to a more interactive set up, he started to appreciate the marksmanship of the gunman. During missions he had not had the opportunity to actually study McCree’s skills. Nor had he had the chance to observe that deadly gaze leading up to a mass murder. Hanzo was certain it would happen again. He was also certain that the skill would be saved for only those desperate moments when they needed multiple targets eliminated at once. Hanzo could only hope that when he next saw that deadly gaze, it was not used against his own family.

{}}}}{{{{}

Through a thin screen of cigarette smoke, Jesse tried to pinpoint at least one familiar constellation in the night sky. The surrounding lights from the castle and the city below made the task impossible. He found a few bright spots of light but could not identify them between stars or planets. He took another drag on the cigarette and wondered if he would ever see a proper starry night again. Big city life was disappointing. He did have one bright spot. He grinned around his cigarette as his mind drifted towards the young heir of the Shimada Clan.

Even the spats of violence between them couldn’t stop his pleasure at causing the stoic ninja to smile. Each of those tiny lifting of the lips was like the sun peaking through an overcast day. One day Jesse promised that he would get a brilliant grin unencumbered by the need to be respectable. 

Jesse stopped himself. He banged his head against the wooden pillar behind him where he sat he behind the giant bell. What was he doing! Jesse studied the palm of his left hand. The same hand he had offered to Hanzo when the ninja had asked to explore their relationship. So much had happened that night alone. Not to take into account everything that had happened in the previous months. Jesse had gone that night with specific orders to eliminate the Talon representatives. He had only told Boss Hopkins that the Shimadas had arranged the meeting, not that Hanzo had suggested working with the new organization. McCree had chosen to hesitate. Hanzo had asked him not to shoot. Okay, ordered him. Still he had held his fire. Was he really listening to a pretty face over orders directly from his boss?

Jesse watched as he clenched his left hand into a tight fist trying to reconcile what he had done. Because he hesitated Talon was able to surprise them with the blast. He had been closer to the concussion bomb than the archer and he barely remembered getting a shot off before his world went black. The next thing he remembered was a voice calling him by name. The conversation after that was kind of foggy. But the moment Hanzo Shimada had confessed to a budding feeling stronger than friendship rang crystal clear in Jesse’s mind. He had rehashed that moment over so many times during the past weeks because he had been certain it was a dream. 

How was he supposed to convince himself it wasn’t? 

He had pretty much determined it had to have been a dream during the past few weeks of recovery. Then that perfectly proportioned ninja came and took ahold of this very same left hand and all the boiling temptation returned full force. Every touch, every butterfly light tracing on his tattoo, burned into his soul. Need outweighed rationality. He found himself spilling his life story without a second thought. Okay, without most of the details, but still. Jesse had it bad. Could he even trust himself anymore?

What was he doing?

If Boss Hopkins found out about this, Jesse was dead. While he did not know the full extent of the Boss’s plans, he knew the Deadlock Rebels were planning to make maximum use of this alliance. And they usually burned the bridge once they were through. Though they had never tried with anyone as massive as the Shimada Clan. Whatever happened once Talon was out of the way, it would not be pretty. For either side.

The clatter of wooden geta interrupted Jesse’s thoughts. He forced himself to relax and glanced over to see Hanzo in full traditional attire enter the shrine with the massive bronze bell. With him was a small cooler. Modern technology clashed with traditional surroundings. The light blue still appeared gray. More so in the dim lantern light from the neighboring buildings. Hanzo set the cooler down near enough for McCree to reach. “What’s this?” 

The ninja opened the cooler to reveal four bottles. Three beers and one slender blue bottle of sake. “You once suggested I needed a drink and that I should have someone with me. I apologize if the beverage is not your first choice. I made an uneducated guess.”

“Hey, I’m not going to complain. I’ve learned to take what you can get when it’s available. Never had Japanese beer before. Any good?” Jesse pried off the crimped bottle cap anyway. He wanted to ask why Hanzo was interested in a drink now. That would come. For now he could just enjoy the unexpected company.

“Can’t say I like it.” Hanzo removed the blue glass bottle decorated with the fancy kanji script. About the only symbol Jesse recognized was the one for alcohol. He watched the refined motions of his partner as the man poured himself a drink into a small black cup. The ninja was quiet. Nothing at all like the smartass that had taken him to the weapon manufacturing plant earlier that day.

Jesse took a sip of the beer to distract from what would have ended up a staring fit. “Eh, not bad.” He shrugged and continued to sip at the beer. He directed his gaze out to the city below the castle. “Good enough to get started.”

“Hnn.” Hanzo did not comment further. Together they shared in the peaceful moment. McCree lit another cigarette and Hanzo frowned. “You shouldn’t smoke.”

Jesse tilted his head and cocked an eye at the archer. “You’re gonna tell me how to live my life?”

“You’re right. That was too intrusive.” Hanzo did not deviate his gaze from the twinkling city lights. His voice was soft and preoccupied. “I should have said, ‘I wish you would stop smoking.’”

“Hmph. Following your orders is bad enough.”

“I thought everything I have asked of you was reasonable and things you would already do given the circumstances.” Hanzo shrugged.

“Eh, I suppose,” Jesse admitted. He really couldn’t deny that as annoyed as he was, Hanzo’s orders were not out of place. “Though doesn’t change that your orders are a pain in the ass. The moment I comply with any of your orders without complaint is the day I’ll quit smoking.” The cowboy chuckled through his cigarette.

Without skipping a beat, Hanzo returned with, “Deal.”

McCree jerked his head to stare at the ninja in shock. The man’s face was impassive. Jesse released a massive groan and threw his head back in disbelief. “Did you just…” This time Hanzo released a smug smile into cup of sake. “You did. Oooh, that’s playing dirty.”

“Yes. But it will happen.”

“Optimistic. Alright then,” Jesse chuckled and drew a long breath through his current cigarette as if to prove a point. “You’re on.” The gentle quiet of the night returned as the two young men shared their time drinking on the back steps of the shrine. Jesse heard the crickets return to the late evening. The drone of cicadas wound down as midnight approached. Jesse opened the third bottle by the time he made the decision. “I have a confession to make.”

Hanzo poured himself another cup from his own almost empty bottle. “If it about why you interrupted me on the archery range, then the amount of alcohol present should suffice. If it is about your behavior on the pier that night, then this will not do.”

“Understood.” McCree tipped his beer into a long drink. The archer must have been preoccupied with those incidences. It would make sense. Even Jesse agreed that both days were unusual. “I found Genji rather messed up that afternoon. Asked if he wanted to go to the arcade to let of some steam. He didn’t say much, which is odd for him. Just said that the arcade sounded like a good idea. But he did say he was worried about you.” Jesse set down his beer and leaned back to studying the starless sky above them. “Asked if I could check on you. That he’d meet me in the arcade after. Refused to really explain why he didn’t go after you. But I figured if there is something bad enough to mess both of you up, then I ain’t gonna force either of you to confront each other. Told him I’d make sure you were alright and that I’d meet him later.”

“Genji? Genji was the one who sent you to the archery range.”

“Yup. Wouldn’t have known otherwise.”

“Why…?” Hanzo frowned as the word formed then abruptly stopped. “Never mind.”

Jesse chose to press further to find the emotion guiding the archer. “Glad he did. Both of you needed company and a drink. Don’t know what happened. Don’t really need to know. Not my place. Wouldn’t be much of a friend if I just let the two of ya suffer in silence though.” And that is what answered him. When McCree glanced to his right, he found his new partner focused on his owns hands in his lap. The archer twisted the black clay cup in his fingers. Whatever had happened on the day that sent Hanzo into the archery range emotionally distraught must have been boarding on devastating. Sighing, Jesse resumed sipping his beer. Perhaps this wasn’t enough alcohol for this confession after all.

Then just when Jesse thought the conversation was over, Hanzo’s voice softly broke through the cooling night air. “Thank you.”

“Huh?” Surely he had not heard the archer right.

“Thank you for interrupting me that day.” Hanzo did not explain further. Jesse decided it was safer not to push the issue. He was a little blown away by the statement.

A gentle smile poked through his growing beard. Jesse tipped the rest of the beer into his mouth to prevent him from gawking. “Of course, darling. Can only hope you’d do the same for me.” Whatever he had said that day in the archery range had made it possible for Hanzo to continue. Jesse didn’t know and probably would never know, but he was glad to have helped. Even if he had been shot at. That was well deserved. He had surprised the archer who was obviously upset.

Now in the yellow lamp light Hanzo’s face was softer. The worry lines were gone. His eyes were unfocused as he gazed over the sea of lights. The alcohol caused his jaw to relax further reducing the apparent age of the son of the yakuza boss. The lack of stress smoothed the angles of Hanzo’s face. The archer did not have his black hair in a tail and the loose strands swung forward to interrupt his profile. Overall the man next to him looked younger, more age appropriate than the severe heir to the Shimada Clan.

What was he doing? He should not be doing this. But he was. Jesse tore his eyes away from his partner and focused them on the lights of the city. He did not know Hanzo’s ultimate goal in exploring their relationship. Up until that moment on the boat slip, Jesse could have sworn the older Shimada brother only barely tolerated him. Jesse of course wanted something more. Why else would he badger the attractive young man? Or try to get the stern face to flip into an amused smile? Or climb a tree into an archery range to offer comfort to a fully armed and emotionally unstable ninja?

Of course Jesse had never attempted to get with anyone whose orders he had to follow on any given day. Or the son of one. Still he was no stranger with flirting with dangerous people. He usually could hold his own if things became violent. This other side of a yakuza elite that he was allowed to see was sucking him deeper than he had ever expected. He just didn’t know how to explain it to Hanzo without scaring the son of the dragon away.

Running his left thumb across the rough pads of his fingers, Jesse remembered the few times he had held the ninja’s hand. And he made a sudden decision. “Let’s go for a walk.”

“Excuse me?” Hanzo turned to stare quizzically at him. Jesse grinned broadly. 

“Let’s go for a walk.” The cowboy repeated cheerfully. He did not want to end the night on a depressed note. Even if it was softened by acceptance. Jesse made sure the bottles were collected in the cooler and his cigarette butts were secured in his trash pocket. He was not going to get yelled at by the gardeners for littering. “Come on.” He tilted his head behind them on standing. Offering his left hand for Hanzo to take. The ninja gave a small frown as he thought about the offer. Jesse could only hope that the alcohol had loosen Shimada’s inhibitions enough to accept. And he was rewarded with a huff of amusement and a sword calloused right palm in the outstretched hand.

Hanzo didn’t need to the assistance to stand, but accepted it anyway. Jesse felt his grin widen to where he didn’t think his cheeks could contain it. The ninja’s next words couldn’t even dampen his mood. “You do realize it is after midnight and nothing is open.”

“So. I just said we should take a walk. Didn’t say we had to go anywhere.” Gripping Hanzo’s hand, Jesse tugged him around the bell and towards the massive wooden gates separating Shimada Castle from the rest of Hanamura. Hanzo kept a hold until they reached the smaller door within the gate. But at least he stayed with Jesse, walking even with the cowboy. Together they wandered the village. Jesse would have been content to walk in silence if that was what Hanzo wanted. After a few minutes though, small stories bubbled up from the tipsy and more chatty ninja. The stories were mostly about the residents of the village or occupants of the shops. Occasionally about Genji’s childhood ‘escape from the castle’ plans. To the point that their father had finally allowed a preteen Genji free reign of the village.

Jesse listened. Adding questions only to spur continued lighthearted conversation. When Hanzo turned back towards the castle walls, he quieted with a natural decline in the conversation. This time Jesse did not ask questions. The silence felt comfortable. When Hanzo slipped his right hand back into his, Jesse knew he could not draw attention to it or it might make the ninja self conscious. At that moment, he simply basked in the shared physical contact no matter how innocent. He was ready to hang himself with this relationship. Might as well enjoy it while it lasted.

{}}}}{{{{}

Metal clashed within the training room. Echoes were muffled by the tatami mats surrounding the training floor. Hanzo swung his katana under Genji’s guard stopping short of touching the skin. “You’re getting sloppy, Genji.”

His younger brother stepped back and propped his sword over his shoulders. “No, just dying to ask you about Jesse.” The bright green haired ninja grinned. “So? What’s going on between you two?”

“Nothing.” Hanzo stepped back to reset for the next pass. Genji did not prepare. He remained grinning with the sword on his shoulders. His younger brother was smug which annoyed him. “Nothing is happening between us.”

“Oh, really? So that midnight stroll through the city was nothing?”

“Genji! Why are you spying on me?” Hanzo groaned in exasperation. He sheathed his katana as he could judge from Genji’s demeanor that no further training would be done.

“What? You passed by the arcade. I wasn’t following you. Why? Did something more happen after I saw you?”

“No. Why would you even suggest that?”

“Seriously? Nothing? Oh, Ani-chan, you poor thing. You are missing so much out of life.” Genji slid his katana home into its sheath. “You should have kissed him or something. I mean you wouldn’t have gone for a walk if there was nothing there. Man, such a missed opportunity.”

“Nothing is going on between us. You were able to befriend him over those stupid video games, why can’t I find common ground to befriend him as well?”

“So you two go out and kill people together and now you’re searching for common ground to be friends?”

“I don’t expect you to understand. Seeing as how you distance yourself from everything we do. We are not going out and killing people. Yes, sometimes it happens. But that is not always our goal.”

“Alright, fine. Have it your way.” Genji sighed. He moved towards the exit and had to move out of the way when a runner burst through the doors. 

“Hanzo-san, the communications director Inoue-san is asking for you and oyabun’s presence in the media room. Taizo-san is requesting a conference call.” The young man bowed as he spoke.

Hanzo nodded. It seemed any further respite from the most recent mission was over. “I’ll be there momentarily. Genji? Would you mind returning my sword to my room?”

“Only because I expect you and Jesse to do something.” Genji took the offered weapon while glaring at his brother. 

“Nothing is going to happen.”

“Only because you don’t want it to. Hanzo… at least try. Please? You won’t know until you try.” Genji waved as he left the training room. Hanzo watched his younger brother disappear and wondered why Genji had to put emotions where they did not exist. Not even Hanzo understood what he felt towards the cowboy. That was why he was trying. Perhaps not to Genji’s standards. And he was not going to tell Genji what he was doing. He just wished his brother would leave it alone and let him figure this out on his own.

Hanzo briefly stopped to clean his face before quickly walking to the media room. If the communications director had sent a runner then Taizo had something important and time sensitive to share. That meant he was not able to change. When he quietly entered the dimly lit room, his father was already in conversation with Taizo.

“… the possibility exists, but I doubt Mr. Hopkins would be willing.” Hanzo heard Taizo’s voice before he saw the large screen with his cousin’s face projected on it. The oyabun stood before the computers dressed in his traditional attire and a warm overcoat.

The leader of the Shimada Clan rubbed his forehead as he thought. Hanzo came up to stand beside his father. Only a nod occurred between cousins as they waited for oyabun to answer. “And he is certain Mr. Sosa has agreed to a meeting?”

“That is what Mr. Hopkins said. I am afraid that if we push the issue both Misters Hopkins and Sosa will stubbornly refuse to cooperate further. As unpredictable as Mr. Hopkins is, I do not doubt he would withdraw the moment we insist on his voice in convincing Mr. Sosa to join in an alliance.”

“You’d think the possibility of discovering and dealing with this new threat would be enough to convince them.”

“I tried to convey that to Mr. Hopkins, oyabun. All he said was to get someone capable of negotiation to Diego Sosa by Monday. When I asked about the time frame, Mr. Hopkins said it was none of my business and that Mr. Sosa had a right to make his own decisions. In my opinion, oyabun, I feel that they simply like the idea that they hold some power when confronted with the Clan.”

Shimada sighed and closed his eyes. “Hanzo, Los Muertos is based out of Dorado, Mexico.” The oyabun did not bother to turn to look at his son as he continued. His eyes remained closed and his head tilted to the left as he thought. Hanzo was familiar with this posture and waited. Sojiro was planning. “The exact location is uncertain. And this Mr. Sosa seems the sort of person who will refuse to speak to anyone else other than a fellow leader. Yet we need to discuss terms for Los Muertos to join our pursuit against Talon. Daisuke is fluent in Spanish and will accompany you.” Hanzo’s father finally looked at his son. “I trust you will be capable of explaining our position to this Mr. Sosa and gain his cooperation?”

“I will do so.” Hanzo nodded as he started to plan travel to Mexico.

“I will leave you to it. Give me a report of your travel plans this evening and let me know if you need any other equipment or personnel to complete this mission.”

“Of course, father.”

Sojiro returned his attention to Taizo. “Your diligence in this matter is appreciated, Taizo-san. Continue your work with Mr. Hopkins and the Deadlock Rebels. I am certain Talon will strike again. We do not have a specific reason for their attempts at pharmaceuticals or weapons, but we are certain they will try again. The European front is more focused on the discontent among the Omnics and has been of no help. And Overwatch has made dealing with that market difficult.”

“Surprisingly enough, Mr. Hopkins has suggested using the Port of Cairo as a work around. And he seems to think Istanbul holds promise. However he has had trouble setting foot in those markets. He did send his regards and offers his limited contacts for you to consider.”

“Interesting. I did not think the man would be so bold as to try to use our reputation to expand his reach.”

Taizo shrugged. “He did mention it as an off handed comment. I am not even certain he truly intends to encroach on that market.”

“If Mr. Hopkins said anything of that nature within your hearing, then it was meant to reach me. And meant as a serious consideration. We may have become too comfortable with our new American friends. If the subject comes up again, you may tell him that it is worth consideration but our current attention is focused on the disruption caused by Talon. With Los Muertos on board that will give us a better picture of what Talon is after.” The leader of the Shimada Clan glanced between the screen and his own son. “I’m certain between the two of you, you will be able to figure out a way to convince Mr. Sosa to join the initiative officially.”

“Of course, oyabun.” Taizo agreed immediately. When Sojiro nodded to indicate that his portion of the conversation was finished, Hanzo and his cousin bowed out of respect as the clan leader left the communication room. Hanzo motioned to an operator to move the video call to a smaller console where he could sit and discuss options with his cousin. Once in the booth Hanzo watched Taizo relax slightly. Obviously no matter how often a subordinate dealt with the oyabun, the anxiety of presenting possible bad news to the boss remained. Hanzo pondered the ramifications of this and a way to reduce that stress for when he assumed the role. He doubted it would be possible. Though he and Taizo were similar in age, Taizo being older by a couple of years, his cousin remained respectful in their conversation. The knowledge that Hanzo was effectively third in command of the Clan remained on his mind. “So, Hanzo, you are finally traveling outside of Japan. Bet you are looking forward to it.”

“Perhaps not the long flight to Mexico, but it will be interesting to see other countries. How is the American desert?”

“Dull. I miss the big city and the variety of entertainment there. But I have to say, Albuquerque and Santa Fe have their charms. I have become rather fond pool.” Taizo chuckled. “You know, I think you would be good at the game.”

Hanzo shook his head in amusement. “Genji has recently installed a pool table in the game room to placate the cowboy. Right next to the dartboard.”

“How is McCree? There is a running bet here about how long he is going to last over there. Most of the bikers here did not think he would survive to the summer.”

Arching his eyebrow at his cousin, Hanzo accused teasingly, “Have you joined the bet?”

“I confess. I put twenty dollars on him not making it one year. Though I have a suspicion McCree is settling in better than we suspected. Sora mentioned you had a few successful outings with him.”

“I’m starting to think your brother is in on this betting ring as well. Though he seems to have your bad luck as he keeps loosing to Genji.”

“Well, what does Genji know that we don’t?” Taizo grinned suggestively. Hanzo sighed. Apparently everyone in his family wanted to see something in his relationship with McCree. The ninja started to wonder what he truly wanted now that he was involved with the cowboy. He had only made the decision weeks ago. How long had his family speculated? His own brother had pushed the issue for months. Hanzo had to concede that appearances were implicating a relationship, but his family obviously were reading deeper into his actions. It was one thing to keep secrets from the authorities and completely different to keep secrets from the family that lived in close proximity with each other.

“Genji is fantastical in his speculation. He always wants things to be sensational. But this isn’t getting us any closer to figuring out how to get a meeting with this Mr. Sosa.” Hanzo redirected the conversation to Los Muertos. Taizo did not protest, knowing he had a job to do as well.

“I am afraid I only know about Mr. Sosa through conversation with others. He is a very controlling individual. Does not like strangers. And he is constantly moving his base of operation. There seems to be a few locations he favors. Dorado being the most prominent. They style themselves as rebels against an unjust government. Their profits seem to focus on the sale of stolen merchandise. Anything they can get their hands on. Weapons and drugs seem to be the most common. Extortion is a growing source of income. That can be traced to a hacker within their ranks. No one in Deadlock seems to know much about that person. But that is the source of the videos.”

“And what exactly did the conversation between Deadlock and Los Muertos indicate in regards to the offer to officially join in the investigation into Talon’s increasing threat to our operations?”

“They are willing to discuss terms. They want to meet a representative with authority on Monday. They gave an intersection in Dorado as a meeting point. Which exists and is near the known location of one of the bases of operation. I would only trust the agreement to meet with caution. As unpredictable as Hopkins is, I understand that Sosa is even more wild in his decisions. Hopkins does not seem to trust Sosa with anything more than vague promises and all their dealings are cash exchanges at the boarder in the middle of the desert. And always with heavily armed guards.”

Hanzo frowned as he digested this information. The videos were important in their attempts to pin down Talon’s operation goals. To gain continued access or improved range of surveillance they needed Los Muertos’s cooperation. Going in with a large group of armed ninjas felt secure, but also ran the risk of pushing the Dorado gangsters further underground. Yet entering their territory with minimal security put the negotiator at risk. Hanzo also knew that Sosa would accept no other negotiator than Sojiro Shimada or someone of equal standing. Hence his father’s declaration that Hanzo would be entering Mexico. No matter what they decided, Hanzo knew this would be one of the most dangerous encounters he would embark on since starting his official illegal career.

The elder Shimada brother redirected his attention to his cousin on the computer screen. “So a small group would present less contention than a large force.”

“I would recommend it.” Taizo paused and glanced to his side. “Actually, from conversation with some of the bikers, I learned that McCree had been present at many of these encounters.”

“Has he now?” Hanzo started to ponder the implications. “Are you being interrupted?” He did have to call attention to Taizo’s distraction.

“A couple of the guys are drunk and are having an argument just outside the door. I can’t guarantee they won’t barge in now that they’ve entered the building. When you take Daisuke, take McCree as well. He might not have gone to Dorado, but he does have some knowledge of their workings. I wouldn’t bring much more than that. Maybe one more to watch your backs. More than that and I think Los Muertos will interpret it as an invasion to their territory and become hostile.” Taizo sighed and now Hanzo could hear slurred English from his cousin’s microphone. “And they have taken over this room as well.” The tired annoyance indicated that Taizo had to deal with this behavior often. “Is there anything else?”

“No, I think we have enough to make plans. Thank you, Taizo. I hope they do not give you too much trouble.”

“The most they’ll do is get in a few sloppy punches at each other then pass out on a couch. By morning they’ll mostly forget the whole incident. Good luck, Hanzo. Let me know if anything comes up where you need a second opinion.” Taizo closed his eyes with a frustrated sigh as a door slammed against the wall. That was when his cousin turned off the feed. He did not envy his cousin. Hanzo was left with four days until the scheduled date and travel plans to make.

{}}}}{{{{}

Stepping from the plane in the small airport outside the seaside town of Dorado, Jesse took a deep breath. This was his first step in North America in months. His first trip to Mexico. McCree hoisted his duffle bag with his new revolver tucked safely away. He found it amusing that he still wasn’t allowed to carry ammunition, but wouldn’t complain. Yet. He brought his right hand up to shade his eyes from the glaring equatorial sun. It just reminded him that he still hadn’t found a replacement for his hat. Briefly he wondered if he should get a Panama hat or a sombrero as a souvenir. 

Lighting a cigarette, Jesse turned to watch the Japanese men exit the plane. Hanzo’s familiar cases for the bow, arrows, and sword along with others were carried off to a black car by a young man named Ikko. The man was one of the Shimada’s foot soldiers. As far as McCree understood it the man was acting as a driver and runner. And extra gun should it be required. 

Hanzo and his cousin Daisuke were the last to exit. They were in the middle of a rapid conversation in Japanese. About all Jesse understood was that they were going to head to the hotel first. He meandered towards the car while he finished the cigarette. Though he was the first off the plane, he was the last to reach the car. He was stretching his legs after the sixteen hour flight. The sun was warm, a striking contrast to the dry cold air circulation of the planes. He did not look forward to sitting in a car for another couple of hours. But he would do what he needed. This was just another job after all.

Jesse was able to take the time to appreciate the clean lines of the crisp tailored suit on Hanzo’s broad shoulders. How could he not? In his humble opinion the perfectly fitted cashmere jacket and blue silk tie flattered the ninja better than loose traditional attire of Japan. It helped that Hanzo’s hair was tied back in a tight tail leaving only wisps of hair to frame the face. He was on a job, but he could still enjoy the view. Placing his duffle bag in the trunk of the car under Hanzo’s critical eye, McCree gave him a broad grin. “You worried I’m gonna pocket my gun and ammo to use on you guys later?”

“The thought crosses my mind every time,” Hanzo answered as he shut the trunk. Even if they were exploring emotions better left alone, the ninja never once forgot the possible orders Boss Hopkins could have given the cowboy. Jesse wasn’t concerned. It was only natural. His grin only grew. They were quite a pair. 

Hanzo entered the passenger side backseat with the other two in the front. The only seat left was the driver side backseat. Which was fine. Ikko was short and the positioning gave Jesse the most legroom. Once they reached the hotel, the cowboy thought about teasing Hanzo for being so considerate. It was only Sunday afternoon. They had a whole day before the scheduled meet up with Los Muertos’s boss. Jesse wondered what they were going to do until then. He knew part of it would be staking out the scene. McCree leaned back, wishing for his hat, and proceeded to attempt to nap as they drove to the hotel.

On autopilot Jesse followed his companions. Daisuke handled the entire transaction in flawless Spanish. They had rooms in one of the nicest hotel in the town, but they only got two rooms. Which meant they were sharing. Ikko and Daisuke went into one room and Hanzo went to the other. This was already ten times different than the first time he had shared a room with the ninja so McCree simply sauntered in behind the heir to the Shimada Clan. As the hotel bellboy unloaded the suitcases, Jesse dropped his duffle bag on the bed closest to the balcony. He still didn’t like anyone else handling his belongings. Immediately he opened the doors to the balcony to check out the city from their second story room.

Jesse heard Hanzo discuss checking out the potential meeting point with the other two. He ignored it for now. Their balcony faced the west with an excellent panorama of the ocean. From the top of the mountain, McCree could get a good layout of the city below. He mapped the route to the coast. He knew the airport was to the north beyond the next mountain. The planned meeting was supposed to be just beyond the fishing boats. From the bits of conversation the cowboy understood, Hanzo was sending the other two to the location. That meant Jesse was stuck with the ninja. And his plan seemed to include canvasing the rest of the town. Though if he had plans on finding the other locations Los Muertos like to hide out in, Jesse was going to have to disappoint him. The gang did not make things that easy. But it would give them a good idea as to other escape routes.

“McCree, let’s go.” Hanzo called from the door. Jesse scowled. He had hoped the ninja would stop using his surname. But he supposed it was a good indicator as to when the archer considered himself on a mission.

“You know, we really got to work on your manners,” McCree growled as he turned to leave the balcony. He was greeted with the arched eyebrow. “Like that. You shouldn’t be so condescending.”

“Get your vest or jacket. We’re leaving for the afternoon.” Hanzo took the keycard and headed out of the room. Jesse noted that the ninja had removed his suit jacket and tie in favor of a simple black windbreaker. That seemed unusual. He had not seen the archer wear a coat in such warm weather before. As much as McCree hated the orders, he was curious. If they were canvasing the town it would make sense to do so by foot. That would make a windbreaker out of place. Of course, the cowboy did not put it past Shimada to be using the jacket to cover the presence of other weapons. For a brief moment, Jesse thought about grabbing his gun, but without ammo it was useless. Finally he locked the balcony doors and followed the ninja.

He caught up with the man in the lobby of the hotel waiting inside the main doors. “I’m getting real tired of you not explaining things.”

“I thought you were listening. I know your Japanese is good enough for that.” Again with the look that said McCree was being an idiot.

“But you ain’t gonna find ‘em in broad daylight.”

“We aren’t looking for them. They will see us coming a mile away. Your vest is a beacon. We’ll be lucky that they do not confront us first. You know as well as I that it will benefit us to know how to get out of difficult situations. This is not our home turf.”

Jesse scowled. “You’re telling me.” He really missed his hat right then. The roar of a modified muffler caught his attention. A green Harley-Davison motorcycle pulled into the hotel’s covered drive. The valet left the hovering craft in idle and the bike’s computers kept it stable until a rider mounted the driver’s seat. It was not powered by a combustion engine as the models of the heyday, but it purred like one. Jesse was not even aware that Hanzo exited the building until he saw the ninja with two helmets. Hurriedly he joined the man and was greeted with a helmet thrust into his chest. “What’s this?” Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew the question was stupid, but he could not think of anything else to say. He couldn’t believe Hanzo had actually got a motorcycle to tour the town.

“If you continue asking questions like that I will continue to question your intelligence.” Hanzo shook his head in amusement and a preoccupied smile formed on his face. “I trust you have not forgotten how to drive one.”

“Are you kidding?” Jesse grinned as he took in the dark green paint with gold accents. The chrome glowed in the afternoon sun, showing no scuffmarks. It had to be brand new. The leather seat was also smooth, without signs of weathering, adding to the fact that the motorcycle appeared to come directly out of a show room. He mounted the bike and immediately felt the vibration of the facsimile of a combustion engine’s pistons. So it was all run on electricity now. It still felt and sounded like the legendary motorcycles of the past. At least according to the few who remembered riding those relics. He took his time to familiarize himself with the controls. If he wasn’t allowed to have his revolver then this was a suitable replacement. 

He completely forgot about the task at hand. It just felt so freeing to be able to ride again. So what if it was some small coastal town in Mexico. He knew there was a road that paralleled the beach. It would be good enough. “Helmet.” Hanzo’s critical, yet amused, voice interrupted Jesse’s thoughts. He rolled his eyes and put on the deceptively thin protection. Technology was amazing. Only then did he feel the motorcycle shift with the additional weight of another person. Jesse tilted a side mirror to peek at the ninja’s face. It was still a small smile. The same he usually coxed out of the stoic yakuza heir when messing around. It was time to get an uninhibited grin from the man.

Revving the engine for pure pleasure of the sound, Jesse judged his next course of action was to go slow. He wanted to gun it out of the hotel, but knew Hanzo disliked that style of driving. The archer admitted to being on racing motorcycles before. He would save the speed for a quick getaway. Easing into gear, McCree rolled out of the covered drive and chose his directions at random. The aim was to get a little lost among the streets and back alleys. He was surprised that Hanzo was able to lean into the turns without overcorrecting the balance. But then he should have expected that from a ninja. 

They managed to cover most of the town a few hours. Soon Jesse was repeating loops through some of the more interesting parts of the city. Mainly he just enjoyed the freedom. No one telling him where to go. Which way to turn. For a short while, he even forgot he had a passenger. At least until Hanzo suggested stopping for an early dinner. Jesse cruised through the streets until he found an outdoor market. Parking next to a cart that smelled particularly good, he glanced back at Hanzo. “I hope you brought currency,” Jesse said pointedly. He still hadn’t been given enough money to buy both a decent drink and a pack of cigarettes. The archer’s face as carefully neutral as he produced a wallet and promptly handed it over to the cowboy. “Much obliged.” He nodded and removed his helmet. Hanzo dismounted first and Jesse hung his helmet on a handle before following. The vendor greeted them and in his limited Spanish Jesse answered. He ordered two plates of tamales. 

He did not say anything as he presented the plate of corn husked wrapped meals. Jesse wondered how worldly the college educated son of a yakuza boss truly was. With only a few moments of hesitation Hanzo started to unwrap the husk. The archer chuckled and Jesse realized he was frowning in disappointment. “You expected me to not recognize the local food?”

“Hey, you’re the one who said he’d never been to Mexico before.” McCree sat next to his partner on the ledge of the fountain to eat. 

“I do my research.”

“I bet.” Jesse was only slightly disappointed that the day was almost gone and he still hadn’t got the unabashed grin he was searching for. He had been certain given what he had learned about the ninja that Hanzo would enjoy the ride. Jesse hated being wrong. Still he couldn’t let that get in the way of a pleasant evening. If this wasn’t a date, then he was sure going to make it feel like one. The attempt to stump the ninja would not ruin it. “Well, did your research tell you how they taste?”

“No. Research does not include that detail.” Hanzo chuckled softly to himself.. “These are interesting. I can’t quite decide what I think of them. They are worth trying again someday.” Jesse knew he was getting somewhere with that statement alone. So this trip would not be a complete waste. No matter what happened with Los Muertos. 

Once they finished, McCree was not ready to return to the hotel. He still had a mission of his own to complete. Nor had the sun set yet. Thankfully Hanzo did not demand to go anywhere. The cowboy continued to take his time and turned towards the coast. After all who could deny the beauty of a sunset on the ocean. 

He cruised slow and surreptitiously tilted his side mirror to watch the man behind him. It was clear that Hanzo’s mind was a million miles away. His lips tilted up as he watched the glittering gold of the sunlight in the waves. That smile grew slightly as the man closed his eyes to relish the sea breeze made possible by riding in the open air on the motorcycle. As Jesse continued down the coastal road, the yakuza boss in training let down his guard. Excitement shone in his partner’s eyes, taking in the freedom Jesse was offering him. Maybe it was only for a moment. For an evening. But Jesse knew he had the man hooked. 

They were men of action. They killed for a living. Never thought twice about it. The adrenaline rush kept them coming back. But taking the time to breathe with no plan in sight must be a new experience for heir to the Shimada Clan. For Jesse it was his sanctuary. Just the open road and nothing to tie him down. He wasn’t about to tell Hanzo this, but he could share it with the uptight archer. The man needed it. Jesse saw it every time the ninja broke into a smile. Somehow being with the cowboy gave Hanzo permission to release the strict hold on his emotions. Jesse wanted to protect that unsaid promise.

The globe of light dipped below the ocean as dusk finally settled on the world. Stars started to appear in the sky and Jesse turned back into the town. It was still early and Jesse still had plans. Lazily he turned into a shady roadside bar. Almost immediately Hanzo’s expression closed off. Jesse expected this and did not let it dampen his mood. He twisted until he almost faced the ninja behind him. Slowly the confident grin of victory spread across his face. He hadn’t gotten the grin, but he had enough. His smile grew as he watched his partner eye him with confusion. “You’re mine tonight.”

“What? No… I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Hanzo returned in clipped English. His accent bled through for a moment. Jesse would have called it cute if he thought he’d live through it. Instead he did the next best thing. He pushed Hanzo with the truth.

“Oh, don’t deny it. You enjoyed every minute of the ride along the coast. I saw it on your face.” Grinning like a madman Jesse tilted the side mirror to make his point and laughed heartily when Hanzo scowled in frustration. “Oh don’t worry, darling. Your secret’s safe with me.”

“How long have you been waiting to say that?” Hanzo asked, dismounting from the motorcycle. Though clearly annoyed, the ninja did not argue the point. He accepted defeat more gracefully than Jesse expected. It seemed that Jesse was right. When Hanzo was with McCree he allowed more emotional relaxation than any other moment of the day. So long as they were not on a job.

“Since the first road trip.” Jesse turned off the bike before dismounting.

“I grossly underestimated your patience.”

“Hey, you would not have gotten the bike if you were not at least curious. Come on,” Jesse motioned for Hanzo to follow him into the bar with the loud music clouds of smoke. “You’ll have fun. Promise.”

“It has to be better than a night of drinking.” Hanzo groused but followed nonetheless. 

“Really? I’m not that boring.” Jesse chuckled, leading the way into the bar. Inside the clatter of billiards greeted them. “I can’t get you into the game room in Hanamura, so I’m getting you here.” A few of the native patrons glanced at the American but continued their activities without issue. Jesse found the bartender and called out, _“Dos tacos de billar, por favor.”_ Living on the border with Mexico had its benefits. Many members of the Deadlock Rebels spoke Spanish or were Mexicans themselves. This meant Jesse had learned a few things. Not that he was fluent. He could just get by in most situations. He also knew that even this far south the Deadlock skull was recognized. Being a solitary biker with a Japanese man likely meant Los Muertos was watching them. Expecting the Shimadas tomorrow evening. Well he wasn’t here to make trouble. And as much as it pained him, Jesse was not going to drink, which could make tempers flare. He was here to have a good time shooting pool with his partner. He just hoped everyone in Los Muertos had the memo to leave them be until their boss made a decision. 

With the cues in hand, Jesse turned to the archer. “So, ever played before?”

Hanzo paused before taking the offered stick. “Never really played.”

“Then we’ll make it simple,” Jesse racked the balls and set the cue ball in place. “No need to call shots. We’re doing this for fun after all. Take either solid or striped balls, whichever you pocket first, and try not to pocket your opponent’s. Eight ball goes in last. Want to break first?” Jesse leaned on his cue and watched the archer study the green felt table. It felt good to share something from his home. Even if this wasn’t his home. He was working on a year since transplanting into Japan and having to learn their way of doing things. Jesse might not have appreciated Genji’s insensitive statement about the cowboy being homesick, but the young green haired ninja was right.

“Might as well give it a try.” Hanzo positioned himself at the table and acquainted himself with the movement of striking the ball. Jesse could tell that this wasn’t the man’s first attempt at holding a cue. And considering he was an archer, the strength of the break was not surprising. The fifteen colored balls scattered across the felt yet none were pocketed. Hanzo’s face was back to stoic and Jesse could not tell what the man was feeling.

“Good break,” he offered as encouragement. If Hanzo had never really played before, what had he done? Jesse took the first easy shot and sunk the solid red. He missed the second shot, scattering a grouping of three stripes after missing the solid blue. He never claimed to be great at the game. Just that he enjoyed it. He stepped back and watched Hanzo line up a shot of his own. The archer was careful in this just as he was in everything else. Still the cue ball struck the yellow striped ball but it bounced off the bumper. Hanzo hummed in annoyance. “Just your first shot at the table. No need to look so bummed out.”

“You are insufferable.”

Scratching at his sideburns, Jesse shrugged. “Yeah, but I pride myself on making you smile.”

“Such a small thing.” Hanzo still managed to smile in response. McCree grinned then turned back to the table. He casually sunk the next two shots. When Jesse missed he leaned against the wall to watch his partner. 

He didn't think he would ever get tired of the sight. Hanzo had removed his windbreaker and in the crisp white shirt the play of the muscles were clearly visible. Jesse was starting to form the opinion that the archer had no knowledge of how pretty he actually was. It wasn’t until a ball disappeared into the pocket closest to Jesse did the gunslinger realize he had been staring at the man and not the table. He did a quick count and discovered that Hanzo had pocketed three balls while the cowboy was distracted. “Now hold on a minute….”

Politely Hanzo leaned away from the table. Jesse suffered through the arched eyebrow when he stepped up to the felt. “Unless you saw evidence of a foul, I see no reason why I cannot continue.” The archer waited for a few moments and when Jesse did not protest again, he lined up the next shot. The cowboy stepped back and watched his partner carefully. This time he did not let himself get distracted. The older Shimada brother smoothly started sinking the remaining striped balls. He let out a low whistle as Hanzo leaned over the table in front of him. So, he still enjoyed the sight. The archer was still in the tailored dress slacks. Glancing over his shoulder annoyed, Hanzo lined up his next shot. “Eight ball left mid pocket.” And with a smooth strike the black orb dropped into the designated pocket.

“Well, I’ll be.” Jesse chuckled. “I’ve been hustled. Another game.”

“It will result in the same.” Hanzo had that smug grin on his face. The one that said he was privately thrilled at surprising the gunslinger. “We should be returning anyway.”

“Aw, come on. Just one more game.”

“Jesse, it will be the same outcome. And we have work tomorrow.”

“You’re such a buzz kill. Alright, so long as I get you at Hanamura for another game.” McCree pointed at the archer so there would be no doubt about his statement.

“Only if you cease with the obnoxious nicknames.” It was Hanzo’s turn to glare pointedly. Scowling the cowboy sighed. He had conveniently forgotten his previous promise to stop using the pet names.

“Fine. I’ll increase my efforts to try and not call you darling.”

“I suppose that is all I can hope for.” The heir to the Shimada Clan passed over his cue before collecting his jacket and weaving his way to the door. Jesse was still pleased with the evening. He had gotten Hanzo onto a motorcycle. Won their first absurd bet. And was pleasantly surprised by the archer’s sharpshooting skills at the pool table. Even had a promise to play again. Not to mention they still had a moonlit cruise back to the hotel. All in all, this was a successful night.

As he returned the cues to the bartender Jesse noticed a few neon green and yellow glowing skulls painted on new patrons. It was getting late if they were out. The cowboy tipped his non-existent hat out of respect and went on his way.

}{{{}}}{

The evening was uneventful. Jesse spent the majority of the evening on the balcony while Hanzo holed up with the other two to compare notes on the meet up. They drew up their plans in rapid Japanese and nothing Jesse could add would change their decisions. Basically they would show up at the crossroads at the designated time. Daisuke would take up position on a nearby building to cover them. Ikko would wait in the car to provide a quick getaway should they need it. Jesse would accompany Hanzo and be the primary protection. 

Monday afternoon found him and his partner strolling through the markets trying to keep occupied before the meeting. Hanzo had no aim for the outing so Jesse took the lead. During their ride the night before, the cowboy had seen a shop selling hats. It was a gamble, but perhaps they had what he was looking for. When he turned off the main thoroughfare, Hanzo frowned but did not stop him. The ninja only sighed when he watched Jesse enter the hat shop. “This is what you choose to do?”

“Hey, I’ve been without a hat for almost a month. I lost mine, remember” The gunslinger called over his shoulder. He did not intend any malice behind the accusation. “And you don’t have any good cowboy hats in Japan.”

“Point taken.” Hanzo followed and browsed the walls of the haberdasher. Jesse however beelined it to the leather hats. There was a surprising amount of color on the wall. He pulled off a dark blue hat with a gold band. “Really? They have a blue cowboy hat.” Hanzo said from where he stood behind Jesse’s shoulder. “Now I’ve seen everything.”

Jesse frowned at the shorter man. “I don’t recall asking your opinion.”

“You’re not really going to get that one, are you?”

“Shut up. Or I’m getting the white one.”

“White?” Hanzo glanced at the wall and sighed. “I can’t believe those even exist.” Shaking his head in disbelief, the archer turned away so Jesse could not see his partner’s face when the man said, “Get the black one. You look good in black.” A strange warm feeling bubbled up in Jesse’s chest. It was one of the few compliments he had ever received from the yakuza boss in training. And this one was direct. Specific. And not at all backhanded or roundabout. 

While staring at the blue hat, Jesse scratched his sideburns and felt a soft smile on his cheeks. “Well… Alright then…” He placed the blue hat back on the rack and picked up the one next to it. Black leather and a curved brim. This one had a couple of woven black leather tassels on the hatband. 

He walked out of the store sporting the brand new black cowboy hat and a grin a mile wide. At least when they went to meet the fellows from Los Muertos he would be dressed appropriately. Jesse didn’t care what they did for the rest of the afternoon. The fact that he was absurdly pleased with the hat kept the absent smile on the ninja’s face. From there their emotions just fed off each other. 

Not even walking the dark ally near the fishing boats to meet the goons from Los Muertos could ruin it. Though Hanzo returned to his stoicism for the meeting, McCree felt the boiling of excitement in his gut. True, they weren’t going into a firefight, but he had his revolver at his hip and his partner by his side. He was in a good place right then.

The gunslinger suspected that Hanzo was nervous if he were to judge the ninja’s quick gait. His partner wore a tailored black suit with the blue silk tie. No weapons visible on his person. The sword and bow were left in the hotel room. Unlike the planned meeting with Talon, this was a meeting with a potential ally. Being the man of authority and the negotiator carrying a frontline weapon usually looked bad. Jesse had seen Hanzo place knives and throwing stars in various pockets, but just from looking at the man, no one could tell. 

His eyes darted through the shadows, seeking shapes that did not belong. Trashcans, crates, the occasional cat or rat darting past. But nothing human shaped trying to sneak up on them. And Los Muertos liked their gaudy neon skeletal body paints. Those showed up well in shadows and created the disturbing images of walking skeletons. 

He paused when he heard the click of shoes down side alley. Hanzo stopped and arched his eyebrow questioningly. His partner did not seem to hear the footsteps. McCree wasn’t surprised. The sound had stopped. But it was enough to put him on edge. Loosing the revolver from his holster, McCree tilted his head down the alley. They had two more intersections before they reached meeting point. Hanzo leaned down the shadowed corridor. They weren’t doing anything illegal. Yet. But they were suspicious individuals. 

Lips pursed in thought, Hanzo studied the two paths. One to the meeting point. One McCree had implicated in unusual activity. Jesse waited. His earpiece remained silent. Daisuke had a better vantage point than either of them and he wasn’t seeing anything. “We continue on,” Hanzo stated firmly. Jesse nodded and followed as the yakuza heir turned towards the meeting place. The hairs on the back of the gunslinger’s neck remained raised. There was someone out there. It could be Los Muertos. It could be someone else. McCree didn’t like it.

A few minutes later while the two stood at the designated alleyway, Daisuke’s voice crackled over their radio. “Police. Group of four. One seems to be on duty. Up on your left.” 

McCree stepped down that corridor and heard chatter in Spanish. It confirmed the foot soldier’s statement. “They ain’t coming. We should go.”

“Agreed.” Hanzo briskly walked away from the oncoming police. Running would only make them more suspicious. McCree followed a few seconds later wanting to be sure of the distance of the oncoming group. They should have plenty of time to exit the scene. He was not expecting to hear Hanzo’s cold voice just around the bend. “No I do not speak Spanish. Perhaps we can agree on English.”

“What are you doing here?” asked a heavily accented male voice. It was accusatory. 

“Taking an evening stroll.” Hanzo was defensive. Jesse growled as he realized that they were being sandwiched. Police from behind. And possible police in front. 

“I don’t believe it. Not this late at night.”

“I don’t care if you believe it or not. It is the truth.”

“The way I see it, a man dressed like you don’t belong down here. Perhaps I should just take you to the station to ask questions. Or you could make it worth my while to forget this whole encounter and we could both go home early.” Definitely a local policeman. He knew the area. Knew the criminals. Knew Hanzo did not fit. And Shimada was well dressed. A clear sign of wealth. And the longer the ninja was stalled with that policeman, the more likely the others would come up from behind. 

This was a narrow alleyway. Stone walls on both sides. Jesse was even staring at yellow Los Muertos graffiti as he tried to think of a way out of this. Daisuke was on the roof. He had a bow and arrow but was not likely to be as bold with his shots as the son of the oyabun. If he was smart he was directing Ikko to the exit point of this alley so Jesse and Hanzo could make a run for it. The gunslinger recognized this alley and decided to risk being heard. “Ikko, get to the corner of El Mar Ruta. Stop at the lamppost with a skull.” Jesse had a moment when he wondered if Los Muertos tagged these locations specifically to aid in escape.

The policemen behind McCree called out in warning. They heard him. They got closer faster than he had estimated. Damn. That put their entire meeting as a bust and potentially on the wrong end of the police. McCree started running towards the encounter Hanzo was having. When he turned the corner he saw Hanzo standing over the body of a uniformed police officer. Jesse wasn’t going to check if he was dead or unconscious. “Where have you been?” Hanzo demanded.

“We got company.” McCree jerked his thumb behind him and continued to the exit point of the alley. Hanzo’s soft steps disappeared under his own thundering boots. As soon as he saw the lamppost he looked up the street and saw the black town car breaking in front of them. Hanzo was first into the car. He slid over to allow Jesse to climb in and slam the door shut. Ikko was already speeding away before the door latched. Jesse turned and found the furious glare of a yakuza boss on him. “What?”

“We were supposed to make contact with Los Muertos not start a fight with the police.” Hanzo scowled and the deep furrows lined the man’s eyes and brow. The stress lines had returned to the pretty face. The tight tail holding back the ninja’s thick black hair had lost several strands and framed the angular face, currently detracting from the severity of the young man’s face. Jesse found that his mind was blank and he could only shrug. There was no way they could have known the police decided to patrol that area. Hanzo scoffed at the lack of an answer, turning to stare out the window. “Deadlock sent me a fool.”

“Now, darling, you know that ain’t true.” McCree removed the glove of his left hand and tucked it into the Hanzo’s. He felt a small squeeze as the archer returned the gesture despite the anger trying to maintain a hold on the ninja’s face. It was a small apology. One Jesse would accept. “An occasional idiot, yes. But never a fool.” The cowboy offered a broad grin to show he held no resentment to the insult. Sitting in the backseat on the passenger’s side, McCree watched the ocean disappear from sight as the entered the town. They were heading back to the hotel. Daisuke would just have to make his way back on foot. “You’re just upset that your meeting with Los Muertos was compromised. You know it won’t matter. If Boss Sosa wants to meet, then he’ll make it happen. ‘Sides, this whole alliance thing is getting too complicated.” When Jesse turned to glance at his partner, he was met with a fearsome glare tempered only with that arched eyebrow that pinned Jesse for the idiot he was being.

“You do realize that Deadlock will kill you the moment they find you are not putting their interests ahead of your own.” Hanzo’s tone held no room for disagreement. 

Again Jesse could only offer a shrug and settled for focusing his attention on running his thumb against the light olive complexion of his partner’s hand. “It’s Deadlock.” As if that explained everything. Hanzo relented and sighed heavily. He dropped his head against the seat and closed his eyes. Jesse didn’t envy the man at all. This was his first major assignment and failing this would loose a critical link in their survival as a criminal organization. McCree was simply satisfied being the hired gun. Less stress. More time to watch. He caught himself staring again. Wondering when the right time to take the next step would be. As they pulled into the hotel’s covered drive with the red stone accents, Jesse realized something. “You know, Hanzo, starting that argument with the police was particularly stupid.”

“Bribes have their place, McCree. I was not about to play into their extortion. And they call us criminals,” Hanzo muttered causing Jesse to laugh heartily. An amused smirk flickered across the archer’s face before they finally exited the vehicle. 

{}}}}{{{{}

Two o’clock in the morning according to the softly glowing green numbers of the bedside alarm. Hanzo had made sure Daisuke made it back safely. According to him the police officer knocked unconscious during the fight wasn’t saying who attacked him. Said it was an ambush from behind and that likely Los Muertos was to blame. Hanzo was grateful that the corrupt official was not going to broadcast the incident. But it meant the ninja would have to be careful when dealing with the authorities, if that ever became necessary. It had probably been for the best that McCree had not been beside him for that encounter. Things could have gone in a different direction.

Stepping from the bathroom dressed for bed with his hair still damp from the shower, Hanzo took a few moments to study his partner. The wild cowboy was without his hat again and stood on the balcony smoking another cigarette. He leaned against the wrought iron railing, gazing out at the distant sea. The white undershirt seemed particularly bright in against the night sky when light by the hotel room’s lanterns. The gunslinger had shed his cotton shirt and leather vest upon entering the room. They were draped over a chair near the door. The brand new cowboy hat sat in the seat. Hanzo noted that the revolver remained holstered on McCree’s hip. Hanzo could not be sure if it remained there because the gunslinger was still nervous about the evening’s disaster or if the cowboy was just reluctant to give up the comfort he had from possessing his weapon. Either way Hanzo let it be. 

Joining his partner on the balcony, the elder Shimada son noticed the strange burn of apprehension in his chest. Last time they recovered from a mission alone in a hotel room, it was not so amicable. This was much different. It was his decision to accept a deeper commitment to the cowboy, so he did not fully understanding why certain encounters left him with uncertainty. 

Jesse greeted him with a warm smile then returned to stargazing. His wild hat hair turned into tamed sideburns and a neatly trimmed goatee. His muscles bulged against the undershirt, revealing the extent to which he used the weight room. It was aesthetically pleasing. Others probably called it handsome. To Hanzo it was a pleasant picture he was growing accustomed to seeing on a daily basis. The fascination was fading and a fondness was growing. 

Slipping his arm around Jesse’s left, Hanzo laced their fingers together in a motion that was starting to feel comfortable. The archer allowed the stress of the night to wash away with the distant ocean breeze. He felt a deep chuckle rumble through Jesse’s chest. “It’s a nice night, isn’t it, darling.” Jesse’s voice was low and soft. A new tone. Hanzo tried to place it. The closest he had heard to this voice was when the cowboy had insisted they take a walk. Hanzo wasn’t sure if both of them were completely drunk or just enough to make critical decisions easier. It was clear that this tone was solely for private moments. Jesses started to lean into Hanzo’s shoulder when a new voice interrupted them.

“Don’t you two make a cute couple,” a woman’s bright voice bit through the night air. McCree’s gun was trained on the intruder before the sentence finished. He had shoved Hanzo behind him, knowing the ninja did not have his weapons on him. “Relax,” the woman waved away the gun without any concern. She wore the glowing neon yellow skull paint that Los Muertos was known for. And no weapons of her own were visible. She was instead studying the black leather cowboy hat in her hands. “I’m not going to kill you. It’d be a shame to interrupt the forbidden love thing you have going. I’m here to take you to meet the boss.”

Hanzo straightened imperially, stepping around McCree but remaining careful to not step in front of his revolver. “We were supposed to meet earlier this evening,” he said firmly.

“You saw the police. Don’t expect me to get involved.” The newcomer sauntered over to the dresser mirror and positioned the hat over her bright pink hair. “You left quite the mess. Not sure the boss is going to be pleased with that.” The woman turned and walked towards them, swinging the hat in her right hand. Hanzo saw that the yellow paint did include the arms and legs to complete the skeleton. “I’ll give you a moment to change and to get your knight in shining armor under control. Meet me at the corner alley next to the coffee shop in five minutes or I assume you don’t really want to talk to the boss.” She tossed McCree’s hat into the cowboy’s face and with speed only attributed to youth and practice, the woman darted around both of them out into the air beyond the balcony. She caught a streetlight and swung to a graceful landing amid the bushes on the curb.

“How did she get in?” McCree shoved his hat firmly on his head and angrily holstered his gun as he stalked across the room for his shirt. 

“That is a question for another time. She’s our contact and we have to move quickly.” Hanzo shucked his pajamas and swiftly pulled on the night’s shirt and pants for the meeting. His windbreaker still had a few of his shurikens and knives so he grabbed it as he exited the balcony. He would simply have to deal with his hair unbound. 

“Are you serious?” McCree called from the sitting area. His black shirt on but unbuttoned. 

“Take the exit you prefer. I am not loosing sight of her.” Hanzo leapt over the railing, landing lightly in the planter. 

As he did so he heard McCree grumble, “You’ve got to be kidding me.” A few seconds later the cowboy stood at the railing, glaring down at the two of them. Casting a glance to both sides of the balcony, McCree heaved an annoyed sigh and pulled on his thick leather gloves. Stepping over the iron rails, the gunslinger committed to the climb. He dropped, hanging onto the rails to lower himself down and make the next part of the fall less. His clumsy crash into the bushes might have drawn unwanted attention so he climbed from the shrubs as quickly as he could to join them.

The Los Muertos woman was impressed. _“Hah, nada mal!”_ She grinned at the two men. “I didn’t think he’d do it. Let’s go. _Jefe_ is waiting.” Darting off into an alley, she acted as if she wanted to loose the two. Hanzo followed, attempting to button his shirt on the way. She slowed as they reached the darker, unlit areas of the city. McCree’s boots finally caught up. Both of them were attempting to identify landmarks to get their bearings. Hanzo determined that they had not gone into this area of the town because he had been focused on the escape routes near the docks.

“Where are we?” Hanzo asked.

“Dorado.” The woman shrugged. “Not everyone has power all the time here. LumeiCo says the grid is still under construction. But really, they just don’t care about this area of the city. Works for us. No one bothers us when we take shipments. And those corrupt police officers? I’ve been blackmailing them for years. That’s why he didn’t press charges.” She didn’t turn around as she spoke. Leading them through the winding passages of the unplanned slums. 

“You got to them first?”

“Of course. I was watching. You really screwed up.” This time the woman turned her head to grin at him. The yellow skull glowing in the dim light disturbed him. Hanzo thought he had seen everything, but these Los Muertos gang members managed to find a new aspect of creepy. “If it weren’t for that cowboy there, you’d probably have to face the whole squad. Thought you weren’t from around here, Deadlock.”

“Knowing the streets isn’t that hard. And my name’s McCree.”

“Whatever you say, Jesse.” The woman chuckled as McCree growled in annoyance. Hanzo just wanted to meet Diego Sosa and get these alliance talks done with. She finally brought them to a wooden structure covered in Los Muertos graffiti. “Here we are. Pull any of that better than you crap and you can bet the boss will send you packing.” The woman knocked at the door which was opened by a towering Omnic with a blue skeleton painted on his casing. 

“Is this them?” The mechanical voice sounded broken. Hanzo could not quite place it, but the scratching to the speaker interrupted the words.

“You bet.”

“Bring them. Jefe is waiting.” The Omnic fully opened the door to allow passage. 

Hanzo followed the yellow body paint through the black light corridors. The jarring color disrupted his senses until he was not entirely sure how many turns he made. Finally a door opened to reveal a barroom. But the people and Omnics here were not drinking and having a good time. They were waiting. In the center of the room was a muscular man done up in red paint. His skeleton was nearly complete as Hanzo could see ribs under the open vest. Nor was he pleased to see them.

“You are not the Mr. Shimada I was expecting.” Sosa’s voice boomed across the room. “Why should I even waste my time?”

“Good evening, Mr. Sosa.” Hanzo matched the tone of Los Muertos’s boss. He was not thrilled to have been given the runaround. “You will deal with me because I will control the Shimada Empire. Should the agreements we make today stand the test of time.”

“You? Ha! Talon is going to crush you.”

“You do not believe that, or you would not have agreed to this meeting in the first place. Your videos tell a different story. They say you are scared. Scared that Talon will take your merchandise. Take your buyers. Take your sources. You and Mr. Hopkins are scared. I don’t blame you. These are very real possibilities. We have resources you do not and you are already worried that Talon will crush us. I can tell you that will not happen any time soon.” Hanzo got to the point quickly. He might not be impeccably dressed as intended, but he wore the mantle of authority clearly. Shoulders back, head erect and voice unwavering. There was no denying that he was meant to lead the most dangerous organization in the Pacific. He spoke with conviction and just barely kept his scorn for the night’s treatment out of his voice. “Informing you of all we know about Talon is a good faith measure. That organization will attempt to cause trouble again. We do not want that to happen. It will upset the current order. And since you clearly do not want to be absorbed or destroyed under their building power, you need assistance. I came here to accept your bid to join us. The one you initiated by sending the video to Mr. Hopkins.”

Sosa stood abruptly. “I did not ask to join you. You asked us!”

“Only because you made it clear you had the same goal as us.” Hanzo did not flinch. He met Sosa’s glare with his own steely gaze. Suddenly the room broke out into angry Spanish. Hanzo had to stamp down the urge to roll his eyes. Of all the languages he had learned, Spanish was not among them. He hated not knowing what was being said around him. In the chaos of words, he noticed that their guide was studying her nails, seemingly uninterested in the conversation. McCree was behind his right shoulder. Silent. Tense. Whatever the man understood had him on edge.

Sosa waved his hand and the room returned to the deadly calm. “You want the same agreement you got from Hopkins.”

“The agreement we made with Mr. Hopkins benefits both of us. If those terms do not benefit you then we seek to find terms that will.”

“You have nothing that will benefit us. Only the promise to eliminate Talon.”

Hanzo scowled. “The elimination of Talon is something we all must work towards or it will never happen. In order to do so we all will try to prevent that organization from gaining power or disrupting our markets. We deal in similar items. Our markets are just on different sides of the ocean. One way to prevent Talon from stealing our goods and buyers is by banding together. While we all attempt to find Talon’s weak point, we can continue to do business and increase our profits by sharing markets. I am not demanding any share of your profit. I am offering you access to new markets. Beyond your current range.” Hanzo felt a surge of victory when Sosa had no argument against this. Of course it wasn’t an agreement. Verbal or contractual. Getting such an isolated and violent gang to trust another was complicated.

“Hey, Jefe,” McCree stepped even with Hanzo. He called out lazily, exhibiting none of the respect Hanzo would have expected towards a boss.

“Deadlock does not have a voice here.” Sosa turned his stone cold glare towards the cowboy. McCree simply shrugged.

“I ain’t here to change your mind, jefe. I just thought you might like a tale from a third party who has seen the inside of Shimada Castle.” A slow grin started form beneath the growing beard. The man knew he had these people’s attention. Hanzo worried about what was going to come out of the cowboy’s mouth.

“I’m listening.” Sosa settled back into his chair.

“Boss Hopkins decided that having someone in Hanamura would be helpful. No one has ever been in there before. Sure they think we’re just some backwater gang with no future, but that’s something of an opinion. We got our own agendas and they ain’t the same as Shimada’s. But Shimada got the technology we’re missing. We got on the ground access to stuff, but when it comes to figuring out these new guys, Talon. You need the technology. Talon uses it. Boss Hopkins appreciates your help with Appalachia. Thinks it was a great use of better tech. And all of us know that to fight an enemy we need to know what they have and get better firepower than them. Right now, Talon would wipe us off the map because they can find us. We don’t live in a fortress. And let me tell you, that castle is a fortress. But you can move. Shimada doesn’t have that. They need it. Deadlock has the guns. Shimada has the tech. And you have the flexibility. Boss Hopkins won’t tell you what decision to make. But there is a reason he likes dealing with you. You keep him on his toes. Makes him better at his job.”

For all the rambling the gunslinger had managed to find the words to make Sosa pause and reconsider. Hanzo wondered how much of that crazy little speech was true. From what he understood of McCree, it was possible all of it was true. Hanzo started to wonder how he could improve his family’s empire and make it more dynamic. They were a solid institution and that made them vulnerable to certain types of upstarts. Talon being the current threat. Hanzo’s thoughts were pried away when their guide waved her hand to get her boss’s attention.

“I’ll go.”

“Sombra. You’re invaluable here.” Sosa stated with the tired voice of a father having to tell a wayward child yet again that they could not do some dangerous activity. Hanzo doubted they were blood relatives, but to an orphan a gang was family. And a boss was like a father. That was where the title oyabun came from.

“I know.” The woman with the yellow skull shrugged. “I got the videos. Just imagine what I can do with the updated tech in the Shimada Castle. Don’t worry, jefe, it’s not like I’ll forget about you. There are more people to blackmail outside of Mexico.” Sombra grinned and it seemed as if Sosa’s mind had been decided by the petite woman. Hanzo was glad the ordeal seemed over and worried about the trouble this woman would bring.


	7. Trouble in the Mix

**Chapter 7: Trouble in the Mix**

Jesse McCree had been ready to take the next step and the teenaged nightmare named Sombra had stolen the instant. So of course he was pissed. Still he had played nice. Done his part. And made it back to the hotel without shooting the hacker. But there was no getting back that intimate moment on the balcony. 

The gunslinger collapsed on his bed fully clothed. Boots hung off the foot of the bed and he dropped the hat over his face. He was not going to count the hours he had been awake. He was just glad the night was over. Jesse listened to his partner move about the room preparing for bed yet again. He could not gauge Hanzo’s emotions following the meeting with Sosa. The man had been a stone. They had mostly gotten the agreement Hanzo had been wanting. And a promise to meet with Sombra and someone named Talton that coming afternoon at four. Twelve hours from now. Might as well get sleep while he could.

“Is that what you think of us?” Hanzo asked. Jesse heard careful guarding of the archer’s voice. The cowboy had spoken off the cuff. His words were only measured to gain the ear of the highly volatile Los Muertos Boss. Now the heir to the Shimada Empire took personal insult. It was too late for this.

“I think the question is, is that the way you folks see us?” McCree sat up, tilting his hat back so he could see the yakuza boss in training. Hanzo was once again in his dark blue satin pajamas. Loose hair neatly brushed, removing the wildness of their run. Even with the closed off, stern expression glaring at him, Jesse was distracted by the black hair framing the man’s face. No matter what the cowboy wanted, this conversation was not going to bring back that delightful moment on the balcony.

“So we are nothing more than a name for you to hide behind while you pilfer our resources and assume control of our markets.”

“Now hold on there!” McCree stood and towered over the shorter Japanese man. After seeing his partner hold his own in many such encounters, Jesse didn’t think for a moment that Hanzo would back down from this intimidation. “Don’t go putting words in other people’s mouths!”

“You don’t deny it, then.” Hanzo glared up at him. It was a full yakuza boss glare. Jesse was a hired gun. He last saw this glare from Boss Hopkins when a biker disobeyed him. The outcome was not one Jesse wanted to remember. Now that this glare was focused on him rather than diffuse anger at a situation, Jesse felt the urge to step down. That’s just what one did when faced with direct ire of a superior. And Hanzo was good at that look. 

McCree steeled himself to go toe to toe with a boss. His gut didn’t like it. And his heart feared the consequences. But he was not going to take this insult. “I never said any such thing! I said you folks got what we don’t! That got nothing to do with your paranoid accusations about us! Either you see us as backwater idiots or malicious disrupters. It can’t be both!”

“You can’t deny Hopkins finds it highly convenient.”

“Of course Boss Hopkins finds it convenient! What kind of idiots do you think we are?”

“I am not calling you an idiot!”

“You call me one every single day!”

“Calling you out on your idiotic behavior is not the same.”

“Well you and your family have done nothing but treat me as a simpleton since I got there. So you tell me, are we just a group of violent morons or intentionally abusing this alliance. Make up your mind so I can get back to the boss on this whole thing.” McCree growled in frustration. Tension ran thick because of a few misplaced and misinterpreted words. If he continued this conversation one of them would end up dead. And his money was on the ninja. The wonderfully strong archer was capable of killing with his bare hands. Jesse could not guarantee that he would clear his gun fast enough. Nor could he convince himself he wanted to try.

This was too much of a mess. He should have known better than to get involved. He spun away from the furious ninja. He was not running. He was preventing further complications to this insane criminal alliance. If it got back to Boss Hopkins that Jesse had ruined the agreements then this confrontation would be nothing compared to what he faced back at Deadlock Gorge. 

“Where are you going!” Hanzo demanded.

“I don’t have to answer to you!” McCree scowled over his shoulder. He grabbed the keycard and valet tag from the dresser. “My orders come from Boss Hopkins. I’m done catering to your crazy rules. Done with your paranoia. Send the others after me if you want, but I’m going out.” The hotel room door slammed shut with the force of his frustration. He needed the largest bottle of whiskey he could find. His long legs quickly brought him to the covered drive at the hotel entrance. Jesse forced some semblance of polite Spanish out to request for the motorcycle and thanking the Valet for his service. Using the wallet Hanzo had given him the other day, McCree even tipped the boy. It wasn’t much. Barely anything in the wallet anyway. But he had learned from dealing with the rich kids of the Shimada Clan that tipping the staff meant the staff didn’t screw with their stuff.

The green Harley-Davidson was his lifeline. Ignoring the helmets tucked in the seat storage, Jesse gunned it out of the drive. His hat flew back and hung at his neck by the leather cord as the wind rushed through his hair. He took the streets at random letting the free choice clear his mind. Jesse could not compete with Hanzo’s paranoia. Though he was still trying. A pretty face versus his sanity. What was he supposed to do? He couldn’t keep doing the same thing. Either he followed the orders given by his boss or he took a chance on a relationship that might never go anywhere. He wasn’t the type of man who thought only with his groin. If that were the case Boss Hopkins would not have sent him here. But he was still human. And the mistake had been letting him get to know the real Hanzo Shimada. 

The day of the Cherry Blossom Festival had told him everything he needed to know about the son of the yakuza boss. And Jesse had been trying ever since. Yet Hanzo always seemed distant and closed to any attempted advances. Now that the moment had finally seemed right to make his intentions clear, everything was in jeopardy. In part because of the pink haired demon and additionally his own words that the ninja took personally. The argument was not something that could be smoothed over easily. McCree had refused to simply back down from Hanzo’s intimidation. Bosses didn’t take to that kind of behavior.

Jesse turned down the ocean view road, searching for an isolated stretch of beach. Eventually slowing to transition to riding through the sand, Jesse tucked himself and the motorcycle behind a sand dune so he was not easily visible to traffic. In the early morning hours, he watched the quiet waves lap at the shore. He ticked off the constellations he knew as he burned through the pack of cigarettes left in his pocket. Whatever happened next was going to have to be Shimada’s move. 

Light was creeping into the world as Jesse leaned back against the sandy incline. It had been a long day and he needed some sort of sleep to make sense of it. He dropped his hat over his face and forgot about the world around him in minutes.

The next thing he was aware of was someone flicking the switches on the motorcycle. In one motion he sat up and aimed his revolver on the intruder. Before his hat cleared his eyes, a familiar soprano voice met his ears. “Man, you are touchy.” What were the odds that Sombra would find him?

McCree sighed and dropped back to the sand. “What do you want?” He shoved the gun back into his holster and mildly wondered how much sand he was going to get in the hotel when he finally went back.

“Heard you roaring through town after our little meeting.” The teenager dropped next to him and deposited a paper bag in his lap. “Decided to find out why you were sleeping in the doghouse.”

“Why am I the one sleeping in the doghouse?” Jesse groused, but did investigate the parcel. Inside were a couple of rolls with cold cuts. Not really a traditional Mexican breakfast. Perhaps the morning was later than he thought. Still something was better than nothing. Hunger overcame him and he decided he would just have to suffer owing the teen a favor.

“You’re the one sleeping on the beach,” Sombra said pointedly. Her face was clear of the skull decoration. The pink hair still styled in the Mohawk. 

“How did you get here anyway?” He tried to redirect the conversation. Jesse glanced towards the road but saw no sign of a vehicle. And he was sure one would have woken him sooner if it had approached the dune.

The teenager shrugged and pulled out her own cold cut sandwich. “Talton dropped me off. I told him I’d bring you to the coffee shop so you can be at the meeting. Though now I’m wondering what happened in the hotel room that sent you out here, sleeping on the beach.”

“What is it to you?”

“I’m a curious person. And since I'm going to be living with the two of you for the foreseeable future, I want to know what kind of trouble you two lovebirds are having. So I can avoid the arguments.” Sombra bit into the sandwich and watched the ocean, seeming to ignore Jesse next to her. The cowboy was grateful that the hacker was at least honest in this.

McCree did not immediately answer. He started to consume the breakfast as he thought about the whole night. About his urge to use the intimate moment to get a first kiss. About the rage at being interrupted. About the rollover frustration into having to put up with Hanzo’s superiority complex. About his flight from the argument to prevent complications to the agreement Boss Hopkins made with Mr. Shimada. About his own pride. “Don’t really think it’s any of your business.”

“Come on, Jesse. You can tell me.” Sombra elbowed him. 

“Yeah, tell a complete stranger about my personal life.”

“You know I’m not going to stay a complete stranger.” The hacker grinned. “I can tell you more about that night than you would believe.”

Jesse knew the teenager was goading him get her answers. “You owe me a bottle of whiskey.”

“Done.”

With a frustrated sigh, the cowboy started. He couldn’t really believe that he was telling the girl anything, but it surprisingly helped to talk about it. He would deny it later. “Hanzo accused me and all of Deadlock of abusing the damned alliance. For some reason he think Boss Hopkins also wants to destabilize the Shimada Empire.”

“Well, doesn’t he?” Sombra arched an inquisitive eyebrow. “I mean, Hopkins doesn’t have the best reputation when it comes to long term agreements. Why else does Jefe only deal with him in cash and so intermittently?”

Jesse cast a disbelieving frown at his conversation partner. “You really think the boss is stupid enough to challenge the Shimadas when there is something like Talon lurking about? I’ve seen that Akande guy and the gear they’re working with. It’s beyond what we got. I ain’t lying when I say Talon can wipe us out.”

“And when Talon is no longer an issue?”

McCree shrugged, balling up the paper bag and tossing it into the sand. “Well this cooperation is only guaranteed until then. So guess we’ll see.”

“Guess so.” Sombra stretched out beside him as if sunbathing in the late morning light. “I can tell you that your buddy is completely clueless about what you want.”

“I know that. Why else do you think I’ve been moving slowly. So I don’t scare him away and get turned down at the drop of a hat.” Jesse scowled at his hands. “Or an arrow in my head.”

 _“Ay, pobrecito,”_ Sombra was clearly being sarcastic. The cowboy rolled his eyes at her exaggeration. “You have absolutely no idea. You didn’t get to see the utterly blank look when I called you his knight. He’s all business that boy. You need to try harder to convince him.”

“What am I supposed to do? Grab his ass and pull him into a sloppy kiss?”

“Couldn’t hurt.”

“I like living thank you very much.” He wrinkled his nose as the Mexican teenager started to laugh. “Well, what would you suggest seeing as how you’re the curious one.”

“Would you like that bottle of whiskey now, or when we land in Hanamura?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means, I’m not going to answer you until we start drinking.”

“You really are a pain in the ass.”

“Yes, but don’t worry, I like you. Come on,” Sombra jumped up and brushed sand from her black and yellow jacket. “Let’s go for a ride. We got a few hours to kill before the meeting with Talton.” Jesse decided that keeping his new friend happy was better than the alternative. He really did not want to find out how much more of a hell Sombra could make living in the Shimada Castle cage.

}{{{}}}{

Jesse and Sombra arrived at the coffee shop just minutes before the designated time. Hanzo and Daisuke were already seated in the patio across from the large Omnic that had opened the door to the Los Muertos hideout. This must be Talton. Sombra bounded off the motorcycle, greeting the small group brightly. McCree was slower. He settled the bike and righted his black Stetson. He tipped his hat towards the group and barely got nod in return. Sombra was right, definitely all business.

Hanzo glanced at him for the briefest of moments then returned to the Omnic. Well, seemed like the ninja was still upset. Nothing he could do about it. Jesse didn’t think he was in the wrong. Pretty face or not, Jesse was not going to let this young yakuza elite get away with his superiority complex. 

Pulling a wooden chair next to the exterior wall, McCree tilted it back and dropped his hat over his eyes. He was not part of this conversation. It was between Shimada and Los Muertos. Still he would listen. He would eventually report back to Boss Hopkins. It helped to know what went on between the organizations. Hopkins after all did want Los Muertos on board. 

The agreements the two groups came up with seemed pretty standard. Sombra would go with them and get access to computers. Los Muertos promised to share information they obtained regarding Talon’s movements. Seemed like that new organization wanted Los Muertos out of the picture first. In return for the cooperation against Talon, both organizations would share access to known markets. It sounded like the same deal Hopkins cut with Shimada. Only this time it did not sound like a thin veil for exchanging hostages. Either Shimada had more respect for the creator of the videos or he realized the outside representatives had value beyond insurance. 

Either way, Sombra was welcomed and wanted to go. The lure of advance technology sparked her interest. True he had not known who the hacker was but Hopkins had told him to get that person’s interest. Sosa was not technology savvy. He was just the biggest bully in Mexico. 

“McCree, we’re leaving.” Hanzo’s clipped business tone broke through Jesse’s leather hat with a vengeance. Thankfully his annoyed scowl was smoothed out by the time the cowboy dropped his chair to four legs and readjusted his Stetson. “Give the keys to Daisuke.”

“Wait, what?” Jesse looked to the Shimada cousin and saw the man shrug embarrassed. Whatever Hanzo had in mind was not Daisuke’s doing.

“It will be his mode of transportation while here in Dorado. He has been kind enough to allow us to use it in the meantime.” Hanzo pushed in his chair and was already turning to the street. Talton was walking away. The teenage hacker waved and trotted down her own path. “Ikko is waiting for us so we can depart tonight. We will meet Sombra at the airport.”

“Well, don’t you know how share the news.” McCree growled and sullenly tossed the motorcycle keys to the other Shimada ninja.

“You would have known this morning if you had not run away.”

“Runaway? Fuck you. I left only because I’d get shot if I shot you. And let me tell you how tempting it is right now.” The gunslinger stalked past the sleekly dressed archer still furious about argument. Apparently Hanzo thought nothing of it. But then he wasn’t the one being accused of disrupting the organization or being called an idiot. The whole of Sunday evening seemed forgotten. All those emotional connections gone.

“McCree!” Hanzo shouted. The soft steps of dress shoes on stone hurriedly followed. Abruptly the shorter Japanese man stood in McCree’s path and somehow managed to glare down at him. Jesse felt a sneer of his own develop. “Whatever is going through your mind right now, get over it. Accuse me of what you will, I take what evidence I have and have to find a reason for it. We will talk in the hotel.” The archer in the pressed gray business suit spun sharply on his heels.

Jesse was not having any of it. He grabbed Hanzo’s shoulder and pulled him back. “No, we talk now.”

The dark brown eyes searched McCree intently. The back of Jesse’s brain wished the gaze was this intense for other reasons. But instead he was being studied and judged for his angry outburst. “Do you really want to discuss the details in public? We can only get away with the agreement because our conversation was vague. This requires more information then I am comfortable discussing here. We are also under a time constraint. Our plane will leave at eight thirty. We will have time for conversation while you pack and we are on the plane.”

“I am starting to wonder what the hell goes on inside that head of yours.” Jesse groused and released Hanzo’s shoulder.

“Far more than I wish to think about most times.” Hanzo sighed and turned back to the street. Jesse watched him take several steps before his boots clicked against the cobblestone street as he caught up. Jesse caught himself wondering about this change in the ninja’s demeanor. He had gone from business tough to borderline vulnerable within moments. This was the first time he had seen such a dramatic alteration in Hanzo’s personality right before his eyes. He knew it was possible. The ninja who joined him on that motorcycle ride was different than the one who faced Diego Sosa. Jesse wondered what other surprises he was going to uncover if he continued to get to know Hanzo. He was definitely more than a pretty face.

“So… all that last night….?” The gunslinger said slowly, his brain trying to figure out what the ninja had been thinking.

“I had certain evidence that suggested one path of thought. I had to figure out what the truth of the matter is. You were not being particularly helpful.” The cold words were not what Jesse had expected or wanted and it put him back on edge. He pulled out the new pack of cigarettes, using the act of lighting and smoking as a distraction to getting angry with Hanzo. He was still required to stay with the Shimadas and if Boss Hopkins had to send him back on a different plane, then the boss was not going to be pleased.

The atmosphere in the hotel room did not lighten at all from their walk. Hanzo started to organize his belongings, which clearly told Jesse he should be doing the same. He shoved his strewn clothing into his duffle bag and reluctantly removed his gun from the holster. Since it was going into storage for the oceanic journey, it needed to be unloaded. Clicking open the chamber he let the bullets fall into his left hands. Only when the gun, holster and bullets were zipped into the bag did Hanzo speak again. Clearly he was worried about Jesse pulling the trigger.

“Are you aware of Mr. Hopkins goals with this alliance of ours?” The archer gave McCree a bland stare.

“This again? This paranoia is getting real old real fast. I’m here because you uppity Shimadas don’t trust a single thing that comes out of Deadlock Gorge. We get that. And now you’re still accusing us of causing problems. Well the only thing I know about is wanting to get Talon out of the way and making some money with new buyers. They haven’t tried anything since butting in on Appalachia. At least not on our turf. If the boss has something else planned, then I don’t know about it. So you can stop accusing me of double-crossing you. We’re not that stupid.” Jesse grumbled from where he lounged on one of the red chairs near the door, watching the ninja in the fitted tailored suit finish packing.

“You’re sure?”

“Look, Hanzo, using your family name to get into markets far beyond Deadlock’s reach is mighty tempting. I don’t even deal with that side of the business and even I understand that. But acting on it? Hell, I don’t even know what to do to get started. Told you before, I am more of a gun guy. So whatever you do, don’t go blaming me for your rumor mill. Take it up with the boss if you’re worried. But back to the original point of contention,” Jesse leaned forward and locked his eyes onto the young yakuza boss in training. “Yeah. That’s what we think of you folks. Inflexible, technologically advance, and willing to shove it in our faces. And you ain’t shone us much difference. The question is, is that what you think of us? ‘Cause it sure is what you put across.”

Hanzo broke the eye contact first. Using the need to put the bags outside the door as an excuse while he thought. Jesse waited. This would not be the apology he was looking for, but it would be very enlightening. Might even determine if it was worth trying to form personal relations with the archer. 

“Perhaps at first.” The square shoulders under smooth tailored business suit tensed. Hanzo did not turn around at first. “As a general whole the Deadlock Rebels are boorish and shortsighted. During this extended exposure, we have learned that some members are capable of foresight.” Hanzo turned halfway to watch McCree with a sidelong look. The narrowed eyes said the archer was reconsidering and that Jesse was the one that had changed the man’s mind. “Though I am not entirely certain foresight will ever be their strong point.” A small smirk at the corner of Hanzo’s mouth meant he was also directing this at McCree.

The gunslinger rolled his eyes at the statement. Somehow in this setting with Hanzo’s voice less hostile the accusation was not as aggravating. “You’re walking a fine line with your insults.”

Hanzo sent him a truly deadpanned look. “And you never cease with idiotic statements and brash actions.”

“Hey.”

“Jesse,” Hanzo turned to fully face the cowboy. Hesitancy and reluctance visible in his body language. “I am not trying to insult you when I ask to clarify. As you said we have different priorities. There are maneuvers done by your boss that we do not always understand and you are the most available one to ask. But I suppose there are more tactful ways of discussing unpleasant things.”

Well, that was as close to an apology as he was going to get. “Alright then…” Jesse pushed himself from the chair and took in the finely dressed man in front of him. “Now will you stop calling me idiot.”

“When you stop using pet names.” Hanzo arched that one eyebrow that made Jesse scowl. Apparently the cowboy was going to remain an idiot for a bit longer because he did not see ‘darling’ fading from his vocabulary. 

{}}}}{{{{}

“ _Hola, chicos,”_ Sombra jumped from the steps where she waited near the airport. “Took you long enough.” She was dressed conservative compared what they last saw her in. Black faded jeans and gray Tshirt with an abstract purple splash of color with her bright pink Mohawk reigning over all. On the steps surrounding her were three large pieces of dark purple luggage. 

“Is that everything?” Hanzo eyed the woman and her assortment of stuff.

“Well, your buddy Ikko said my computers were too much to pack. So you owe me a new computer lab.” Long purple and silver nails poked into Hanzo’s dress shirt as Sombra pointed into his chest forcefully. Personal space did not seem to be her priority.

“You will be provided with a computer lab suited to your needs,” Hanzo sighed. Dealing with the rattlesnake was hard enough, now they were inviting a piranha into the castle. One that would consume every piece of technology they had to offer. What was he supposed to do with the pair of them? The ninja pulled documents from his briefcase and passed them over to the Hispanic woman.

She leaned back to study the papers. “Really? Fake passport and visa? It’s all illegal anyway. And I could have made better ones. And really, Angelica Ramirez? That name is horrible.”

“You don’t have to use it,” Hanzo watched Sombra rifle through the documents. “But the less attention we gain from authorities the easier it is for us to continue our business.”

“That’s a private plane, Hanzo.” Sombra waved to the airport. “What authorities are you trying to fool?”

“We still use public airports with customs.”

“Hey, Jesse,” the tiny Los Muertos woman leapt onto the tall American’s back to look over his shoulder, showing him the fake documents. The black cowboy hat flew to the ground as the man protested. “What does your passport say?” 

“Sombra!” Jesse flailed for a moment to balance with the additional weight. “Seriously, man!” Hanzo knew from watching the gunslinger that his stability was never in jeopardy and that he was only humoring the woman. He helped keep her up by holding her knees. “Look I don’t know what my passport says. Never looked at it.”

“You’re no fun,” Sombra pouted and in the next moment had the American passport and wallet in her hand. Hanzo hadn’t even seen the slight of hand from where she picked Jesse’s pocket.

“Hey! How’d you get that?”

“Hmm, Joel Murray. Wow, they gave you an even worse name. Hold on, that’s the same name on your driver’s license. Are you sure your name is Jesse McCree?”

“Yes, my name is Jesse McCree. You can’t really expect me to put a wanted name on a legal document. Now give that back!” Jesse reached to grab the documents from Sombra’s outstretched hand. She was quick and off his back in moments.

“Pff…” She tossed McCree’s legal documents over her shoulder. She sauntered towards the airport entryway while Ikko loaded her luggage on top Hanzo’s on the trolley. The gunslinger’s duffle bag remained in the car’s trunk waiting for its overprotective owner.

“Come on, Jesse,” Hanzo called over his shoulder, catching a glimpse of the cowboy picking up his hat then shoving his wallet back into place. 

“Hold your goddamn horses,” Jesse growled without any real malice. The sound of the car trunk closing preceded the clunk of the snakeskin boots. 

From there the trip through the terminal and across the Pacific Ocean was uneventful. Sombra was enthralled with her holographic handheld computer and kept to herself. Hanzo reclined his seat and proceeded to enjoy the relative silence. He was not going to celebrate the alliance yet. So much could still go wrong. But the initial stages were done. The cowboy was restless at first. He always seemed to be during take off. Hanzo wondered if the Deadlock Rebel disliked flying. The man never said a word, but he tensed and fidgeted until the planes reached cruising altitude. Only then did he attempt to sleep. Even then Hanzo noted the slight flinch every time they hit turbulence.

Even though their argument was only an hour ago, Hanzo felt confident that they had not burned all prior attempts to get to know one another. He slipped his right hand into Jesse’s left and gripped their palms together tightly. If McCree was not going to admit to being afraid of flying, then Hanzo was not going to call attention to it. Though he could still offer support. When the cowboy returned the gesture, the ninja knew things would be all right. They could continue from where the motorcycle ride left off.

“So, I got a question. You gave Daisuke a brand new Harley-Davidson.” Jesse’s thick drawl asked above the sound of airplane engines.

“Yes. Since Dorado does not have a comprehensive public transportation system, he needed someway to move about the town. He chose the motorcycle. When I asked to borrow it for a night he agreed.” Hanzo answered immediately. His eyes remained closed, simply enjoying the moment.

“Does that mean that Taizo guy is riding around on my bike?” Concern for his property was clear even behind the casual cock of the cowboy’s head.

The archer closed his eyes again as he explained, leaning back to rest from the stressful few days. “No. Mr. Hopkins would not allow that. I believe he said the bike was property of the Deadlock Rebels and it would remain yours for when you returned. Besides, Taizo asked for a red pickup truck. I can’t remember if it was Ford or Dodge. I don’t really understand the allure of American vehicles.”

“Damn, I’m working for the wrong organization.” This time Hanzo cracked his eyes to watch Jesse. His voice betrayed disbelief. “I mean you give your folks brand new vehicles and I’m stuck with the damn cigarette allowance.”

“I cannot control what Mr. Hopkins does. But I doubt you want for anything essential.”

McCree shrugged. “Guess not. Just miss my bike.” There was something more in the rugged hair covered jawline. And a slight tightening of his eyes. Jesse missed more than just the motorcycle. Perhaps there was something he could do to give back some of the independence the cowboy was used to. 

With his fingers laced through Jesse’s calloused hand, Hanzo drew the arm into his lap and traced the Deadlock Rebel tattoo. The left forearm relaxed under his touch. It was an interesting detail, but Hanzo was lost in thought. How could someone belong to a gang with such a violent reputation and still have the sense of liberty that he had. There was something he did not understand about the outlaw motorcycle gang. Something purely American. He was not going question it too deeply right then. He wouldn’t find the answers and would only stress him out beyond comprehension. Instead he traced the wings flanking the skull while the plane taxied down the runway. As he drifted off to sleep the hand remained in his.

}{{{}}}{

Hanzo and Sombra had immediately been escorted to an upstairs conference room. Of course Jesse wasn’t invited to the meeting. The Shimada cousin, Sora, came to take the revolver. With plenty of grumbling and bellyaching, McCree relinquished his weapon. Dropping his bag on the floor of the bedroom, Jesse kicked off the red slippers into the corner. He was back in his tiny room in Shimada Castle. Plain white walls and empty bed next to the window. McCree set his new black Stetson on the dresser in a prominent location and dropped onto his bed. Back to the mundane routine of the yakuza family.

“Nice hat.” Cue the green haired ninja. A couple of hours after their arrival. Jesse sat up and watched Genji try on the cowboy hat which looked strange against the khakis and purple colored polo shirt. Sighing the gunslinger grabbed his cigarettes and opened the window.

“You missed the exciting part.” McCree started smoking as he watched his hat carefully. He breathed in relief when the young ninja put the black leather back on the wooden dresser.

“I know. I was in class.” Genji plopped onto the bed next to the Jesse. He looked frustrated. “I always miss the best stuff when I go to class. So. Who’s the representative from Los Muertos?”

“A hacker responsible for collecting the videos against Talon.” 

“Really? Bet that made father happy.”

“Couldn’t say. They left immediately on arrival.” Jesse shrugged and flicked ashes out the window.

“Well, it’s almost dinnertime. Come on.” Genji hopped up and grabbed Jesse’s Stetson. He was already out of the room when he called, “You can tell me all about your trip to Mexico on the way.”

Before Jesse could stand, a newly familiar voice rang down the hall. “Hey! I know that hat! Jesse! I got a room next to yours!” McCree groaned as he heaved himself from the small bed. Sombra. That would be his luck. The bright pink hair and tan face peeked around the doorframe. “Hola!” She had cleaned up and wore black slacks and a clean blue tshirt.

“Sombra. Thought you would be holed up in the computer lab.”

“You wouldn’t believe the tech that they have! It is amazing!” The demon teen grinned with uncontainable excitement. “Of course a lot of the systems are a mess so it’s going to take days cleaning it up.

“I’m sure,” McCree joined the two bright haired kids. He could care less about the state of the Shimada computers. “Genji, this is Sombra from Los Muertos. Sombra this is Genji Shimada. Hanzo’s younger brother.”

“You’re Hanzo’s brother?” Sombra clearly didn’t believe it. Her eyes widened as she studied the ninja. Of course Genji returned the unguarded fascination. “I bet you have all sorts of stories. I’m sitting next to you at dinner.”

“You’re going to dinner? That’s a first. I can’t wait to see Uncle Akira’s face.” The green haired ninja grinned. Jesse was surprised along side Genji. The Shimada dinners were always meant for the men of the family to finish the business of the day. He had never seen any women at the dinners before.

“Which one’s he?” Sombra asked.

“He’s the big old guy.” Genji mimed a beer gut as he talked, extending his arms with Jesse’s hat to their fullest. Jesse took the opportunity to pluck the Stetson from the ninja’s hands. “Hey!”

“I thought we were going to dinner, not making fun of your family.” McCree settled the hat firmly on his head.

Genji shrugged. “I do that on a regular basis.”

“Speaking of which,” Sombra grabbed Genji by the arm. “You need to tell me everything you can about Hanzo and his relationship with Jesse.”

“You don’t mean…” Genji glanced over his shoulder, grinning at the cowboy. Jesse felt the pit of his stomach give out. “Hanzo had the nerve to tell me nothing was happening.”

“And nothing is happening,” Sombra chuckled, increasing their speed. “Believe me.”

“Sombra!” Jesse growled and sped up his pace. Obviously he hoped to silence the two on catching up with them. The ninja and hacker laughed and trotted away.

“They need help!” Sombra cackled. Then the two started running down the hall. Introducing them to each other had obviously been a monumental mistake. This was not something he had ever intended to bring up around Genji. Not unless he had Hanzo’s approval. Jesse sighed and did not bother to run after them. They would have their conversations one way or another. So much for privacy in pursuing a romantic relationship. Things were just not going his way.

Dinner was much the same. He could not even enjoy the shock among the Shimada Elders as they watched the girl from Los Muertos cut up with Genji. She was the object of scrutiny. Same as Jesse’s first night on the property. Sombra however did not seem to care about it. She knew as well as the Shimadas that if the same level of respect was not given to her as was given to the representative from the Deadlock Rebels then Los Muertos would pull out of the agreement. The Shimadas had to have Sombra at the formal dinner. There was no choice. 

Genji and Sombra were next to him and Jesse only heard pieces of their whispered conversation. On his other side was the silent heir to the Shimada Clan. Hanzo went through the meal without saying a word. Jesse wondered if it was because of the friendliness between his younger brother and the pinked haired teenager. Or if there was something else happening beyond the gunslinger’s knowledge. So Jesse was left without a conversation partner. Maybe he could get a few moments later in the night. When they did not have to worry about interference from the obnoxious pair. 

Instead his right arm was captured by Sombra the moment they left the large dinning hall. “You’re coming with me!”

“Really?” Jesse pulled his arm free. “Where are we going?” He really could have used a good night’s sleep to get back on Japan’s time zone. Still he went with the hacker. He had lost track of the green haired ninja.

“You’ll see.” The sly grin on the girl’s face did not ease any of the warning signs Jesse felt in his gut. “Besides, I owe you a bottle of whiskey.” With that, Sombra led them away from the Shimada Castle and to a bar that he knew the teenager should not have known about as she was new to the area. Then the bright green hair and purple shirt met them partway there. Genji. Obviously. 

“You brought him?”

“Well, yeah. I can’t buy alcohol legally here. And I am not going to do any illegal activity in Shimada’s backyard. And I know you wouldn’t do that either.” Sombra waved and Genji grinned at them.

McCree couldn’t fault her logic. The Shimadas kept their public face as immaculate as possible. Keeping to every law and ordinance the city and state had to offer. They made sure to keep the residents to the same, not that much petty crimes occurred in Japan in the first place. The show kept the authorities off their backs and allowed them to continue to traffic in the black markets.

Groaning to himself, Jesse pieced together why the two kids were dragging him to the bar. “You do realize that I don’t want you to get involved with getting me and Hanzo together.”

“Please, you need it.” Great, he was about to get dating advice from a teenage girl. And his best friend who happened to be the brother to said love interest. McCree backed away as he made this realization. Sombra grabbed his right arm again, not letting go with a grip stronger than her wiry body suggested. “Sorry, amigo, we’re talking about it.”

“Don’t runaway, Jesse.” Genji called as they got closer. “You need to know a few things about Hanzo if you’re going to take this to the next level.” They pushed him into the bar and set an amber glass bottle in front of him. “Relax. It’s about time Hanzo found someone.”

“Seriously, guys, we’re good.” Jesse sighed sandwiched between Genji and Sombra. What was he supposed to do. Brushing them off would only increase their persistence. Instead he poured himself a shot of whiskey and savored the bite of alcohol. This would make the conversation easier.

“The problem is,” Sombra leaned over the bar to speak to Genji, “Hanzo is both clueless and slow. The moment business gets involved he forgets anything is happening.”

“I know! He never had a personal life until Jesse showed up. Granted much of that was them going off on some mission or another. But I caught them walking through the town one night holding hands. Then they went off to Mexico.” As Genji spoke of that night, McCree felt a burn of embarrassment. He had done nothing wrong. Still hearing it from Hanzo’s little brother made it sound so much worse. He downed another shot.

“You should have seen them!” Sombra cooed. “The motorcycle ride alone was so adorable!”

Jesse scowl. “Alright, now I know you’re just messing with me.” He focused on pouring another shot, wondering what kind of grief Genji was going to give Hanzo later.

“Of course, why wouldn’t we?” Sombra grinned. She patted his right arm absently and continued her conversation with the ninja over Jesse’s shot of whiskey.

“I did not believe you actually got Hanzo on a motorcycle.” Genji leaned in. “I took him out on one a couple of years ago and he vowed never to get on one again. How did you do it?”

“You’re the one? Ha. He called it a deathtrap. All I did was make a bet with him. Told him he’d enjoy it.”

“That’s all it took?” Genji’s eyebrows shot up. “Hanzo must really like you. He really needs help.”

“No, we don't. We got this.”

“Jesse,” Sombra gave him the hard glare with the arched eyebrow. How had she learned that look? He was not being an idiot about this. “You don’t got this. You even admitted to frustration.” Jesse took another shot.

“Look, it’s not going as fast as I want it to, but there are only two things stopping me. Wanting to stay alive and not wanting to scare him away.”

“Well, he has me there,” Genji sat back and waved down the bartender for a small bottle of sake. “If Hanzo felt forced he would lash out.”

“Well, that’s no fun.” Sombra frowned, twisting the straw to her soda absently. Jesse rolled his eyes. Clearly the hacker wanted to get involved. What had Jesse done to get these two to interfere with his life? “Well, it can’t hurt to keep an eye on things. I mean if Jesse doesn’t get Hanzo to realize the extent of his intentions then nothing will ever happen.”

“Alright already.” Jesse sighed. “Can we not continue to talk about this. You’re not going to change my mind on what to do.” This was more than enough to make him regret getting involved with Hanzo Shimada. Still there was definitely something there. He had not sat next to the young yakuza boss in training on the plane for ten hours holding the man’s hand for there to be nothing. However slow Hanzo wanted to take this relationship the archer definitely wanted it. Jesse was not about to ruin the delicate trust between them. Not after patching up after the brief argument. In stereo Sombra and Genji chatted around him. Jesse enjoyed the liquor. So long as they did not actively try to force activity, the two could talk all they wanted.


	8. An Approaching Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A series of troubling events

**Chapter 8: An Approaching Storm**

Three months passed with no significant encounter between Jesse and Hanzo. The cowboy watched the colors of the leaves change without being able share the novelty with the man of his interest. The heir to the Shimada Clan was occupied with the executive side of the operation. This meant McCree did not go on any frontline missions. It wasn’t back to the same distrust and confinement as he experience when first placed with the yakuza organization. But it was close.

All meetings with Hanzo were public, brief, and professional. Nothing Jesse wanted. One such meeting was an introduction to an Omnic in a crisp black suit and three golden lights on his forehead. The only name given was Zed. Jesse was allowed continued access to the shooting range with the company of one of three people. Hanzo, Sora, and this Zed. His near daily venture from the Castle to target practice was now almost always with the Omnic as Hanzo was consumed with work. It was no longer as amusing. Zed was near silent and almost always disdainful. Definitely no longer Jesse’s favorite part of the day. 

One cold afternoon McCree threw darts while Genji sat off to the side reading a textbook. Sombra was absorbed in her purple holographic screens. And Hanzo was somewhere in the middle of the Castle meeting with the CEOs of the frontline businesses. Ones the yakuza boss in training would need to learn for when he took over the organization. It was just another winter day.

“He needs to take him out to dinner,” Sombra spoke to her screens. Jesse rolled his eyes and pried the darts from the board.

As he walked back to the mark he sent her a tired glare. They had been at this argument for over an hour. “No, I don’t. ‘Sides, he’s the one with all the money.”

“Won’t happen.” Genji piped up from the overstuffed leather couch. The younger son of Shimada had made the game room quite a comfortable place to relax. A pool table with the standard green felt stood in the corner across from the couch. Sombra sat at the three person bar, a cup of coffee next to her. Though it was three in the afternoon, she was sipping at the caffeine laden drink. Genji had already downed two cups in the space of an hour. As he stated earlier, he was studying for exams. “Hanzo won’t publicly show anything.”

“Sounds boring,” Sombra shrugged.

“Never said he was the most exciting guy out there,” Genji continued to scroll through his textbook. “No, Hanzo just needs to get out of the country. Get to where people don’t know him.”

“That explains Dorado.” Sombra grinned. Genji chuckled. 

“You guys really need something else to worry about.” Jesse tossed the darts into the thin ring of the triple points. It had only been a few months since their trip to Mexico and both Genji and Sombra found time to badger him about how to get Hanzo return his affections. It had all turned sickening once they realized that the archer had not left the confines of the boardrooms. 

“ _Genji-san,”_ a young man knocked on the game room door to announce himself. “ _Your purchase has arrived and they are setting it up in the garage now.”_ All heads turned from the attendant to the green haired ninja.

“ _Excellent! Tell them I’ll be there shortly.”_ The attendant rush from the doorway to do as ordered. A grin on his face. Genji tossed his textbook tablet to the seat next to him and leapt from the couch. “Come on, Jesse. You’ll like this.” The young man was out the door before McCree could set the darts on the table. Sombra was right behind.

Needless to say, Jesse surprised himself with understanding more of the conversations around him. He might not be the best at conversational Japanese, but at least now no one could really talk secrets in front of him. Making his way to the garage, Jesse’s curiosity nagged at him. What on earth could Genji think was interesting enough to drag him through the blistering cold winter wind. McCree tugged his leather coat closer. He had only had the fine, well made, thick leather jacket for about six months and already it had more than its share of patches. These however had been expertly repaired and only small seams remained to show the scars. As he followed Sombra’s gold and purple jacket, he realized Genji was long gone.

“Come on, slowpoke!” Sombra hollered as she darted around the gate leading into the back alley between the castle and the garage. 

“Whatever it is, it’s not going anywhere,” he called after her. He swore he heard laughter and a distant call of ‘That’s not the point!’ Jesse rolled his eyes and continued to follow. He thought about lighting a cigarette but the garage was not that far away. Sombra had left the door ajar. Jesse opened it to accommodate his broad shoulders then promptly forgot about it.

Not too far away in the next open space of the packed garage was a sleek black Harley-Davidson motorcycle. Clean, gleaming chrome in contrast to the polished ebony paint of the body and wheel wells. The black leather saddle had the extension and back rest to better seat a passenger. The chrome mufflers looked as if the roar from the engine would deafen the whole city block. In short this bike was a beauty. Top of the line and brand spanking new. Any biker in Deadlock Gorge would give his right hand for a motorcycle like this. Sure they kept their bikes spotless and customized but they weren’t next years model. 

“Told you,” Genji grinned from where he and Sombra stood, watching the yakuza drivers unpack and ensure the motorcycle was in working order. “Granted you’ll have to share with those authorized to use the fleet, but unofficially its yours.”

“You’re not pulling my leg this time…” McCree cast his eyes sidelong towards the green haired ninja. Earlier that summer Genji had promised to add a motorcycle to the Shimada fleet. That had ended in disappointment. 

“No. Not this time. This motorcycle is here to stay. You remember Sora, right? When I told him about your ride in Dorado,” Jesse groaned, interrupting Genji’s explanation. “Well of course I told Sora,” Genji asserted. “I told him how well the ride went and we decided that maybe you could repeat the experience here.”

“Genji. That was a one time deal. I doubt Hanzo is going to get on a motorcycle again. It was a crazy bet he didn’t realize he was making.”

“He will.” The younger Shimada brother sounded certain. “I know he will because he got on one after I crashed mine with him on it.”

“Wait…” the cowboy tore his eyes away from the black Harley and studied his friend. “You crashed a motorcycle with your brother on it?”

“That’s what I just said. Father won’t let me drive one or own one now because of it. I think I still have the pictures somewhere.” Genji pulled out his phone and started to scroll through the screens.

“Got it!” Sombra grinned and displayed the holographic photos of a thoroughly demolished neon green and white Suzuki racer. It was barely recognizable as a vehicle.

“How did you get that! It’s password protected!”

The hacker raised her eyebrows at the young man. “Really, Sparrow? It was an easy password to break.”

“It was in Japanese!” Genji protested.

“So? It was still an easy password to break.”

“What is it?” Jesse asked curious, studying the twisted wreck and trying to figure out how the two Shimada brothers were alive.

“I’m not going to tell you. It’s his password.” Sombra sounded offended that the gunslinger would even ask that question. Though for the right price she would reveal anything.

McCree decided to return the conversation back to the motorcycle crash. “I know you did not walk away from this. What happened?”

Genji started to swipe back through the pictures until they found one of him standing proudly next to his bike with a matching neon green suit and helmet. “It was my twentieth birthday gift. Father finally thought I was ready to take on the responsibility of owning a motorcycle. I had been pestering him for years. When I started college it took a bit before he was convinced I could have my own mode of transportation to and from campus. I still had the trains in bad weather. It took six months before I convinced Hanzo to go for a ride with me.” Genji found a selfie of the two brothers sitting on the bike, helmets in hand. Hanzo was smiling, closed mouth but happy. Both wore the protective jumpsuits. Probably at the insistence of their father. Genji did not strike Jesse as the type to care for the protection required for racing bikes. 

“Well…” Genji shrugged as he continued the story. His voice contained a hint of regret under the cheerfulness. “It was a good ride. Clear sunny day. Hardly any traffic. Got four hours of good riding in. Hanzo suggested we take a trip to the Daibutsu in Kamakura. We were making our way off the toll road when a delivery truck slammed into us. We were told that he wasn’t looking in his mirror and thought he had cleared us, but his cargo hold clipped the front of the motorcycle sending us into the other cars. Hanzo was thrown into the windshield of a car behind us. The motorcycle and I spun into traffic. I was lucky because the bike was crunched under the oncoming car before it got my legs. Still broken bones galore. Hanzo had a punctured lung. Recovering from that took quite a bit of time. I allowed Sora to take pictures of me in the hospital.” Genji swiped until they came across the grinning kid bandaged up like a horror movie mummy. “You can bet Hanzo refused to have his picture taken. Father was furious. At the driver. At us. Weren’t allowed to have a motorcycle in the fleet again.”

“Well of course your father was upset,” Sombra casually flicked through the photos of the young Shimadas. “He almost lost both of you in one go. But at least it wasn’t your fault.”

“Yeah, but I’m still not allowed to drive one.” Genji turned to Jesse, who was still eyeing the glistening black Harley. “This is technically Sora’s graduation gift. He said you could borrow it any time. So long as someone is with you. Those were father’s orders.”

“Didn’t know Sora liked motorcycles.” McCree mused. The conversations with the Shimada cousin had never gone into vehicles. The cowboy mostly dealt with the man during missions and returning his revolver to storage.

“Man, we really need to get him to show you his collection of Harley-Davidson merchandise. He and Daisuke planned this out in high school. Then you show up having actually owned one and you never spoke to them!” Genji laughed. “That one is on me. So, how about it? Want to go for a ride? You got to take me along.”

McCree stared at the green haired ninja as if he had grown a second head. “Now?”

“Well why not?”

Jesse could think of nothing. Perhaps the cold weather, but to get on a motorcycle again won. “Sure.” Genji grinned and grabbed a neon green flack jacket and two helmets. Turning to Sombra he saw her already typing away at her holographic screen. “Good?”

“On don’t mind me. I’m on the trail of some Overwatch dudes. They have the nerve to try and hack into the Shimada’s systems after their first disaster.” She grinned with an evil glint in her eye. If computer viruses could kill humans, Jesse bet she would find a way. “Have fun!”

He removed his Stetson and shoved it through the screen into her chest. “I expect it back in one piece. With nothing done to it.”

“Jeeze, you’re so picky.” The hacker took the hat and hung the strap on her arm to keep it secure. Jesse guessed she had just done her crazy pink hair and did not want to ruin the new style. “Bye!” she waved as Jesse took the helmet from Genji. He straddled the leather saddle first and acquainted himself with the controls. 

Genji mounted behind him, neon green helmet in place. Sighing, Jesse knew he would have to wear the thin black helmet while in Japan. Shimadas and their insistence on sticking to the rules of the road. He clicked the strap into place and they were off. Meandering through the city streets until Jesse knew them by heart. The first drive with Hanzo helped. “Hey, does this thing have a toll pass?”

“Yep. Where do you want to go?” Genji leaned over his shoulder to answer above the wind.

“No where in particular. Just want an uninterrupted cruise.”

“Sure. The entrance is about five blocks to the left. Near the train station. If you want I can show you my college campus.”

“Why not.” Jesse turned in that direction and eventually found the ramp leading to the highway. The dull hum of the cars around him and the rush of bitter cold wind through the jacket and gloves eased some of the impatience that had been growing in Jesse’s soul. He hated being stuck in that castle. Genji and Sombra certainly tried to keep his interest, but it was nothing like this. Just the knowledge that he could go places placated him. Jesse watched the massive volcano in the distance. It dominated the landscape of skyscrapers and temples. It held its own beauty but was not as interesting as the changing deserts.

Time was meaningless to him while they cruised down the road. When Genji tapped him to exit, Jesse had forgotten they were going anywhere. Getting to the campus hardly registered. All the buildings were sleek and new. Just more kids wearing backpacks than usual. Less businessmen with briefcases. Genji started to talk about each building as they passed. Jesse would not stop the young man, but honestly he did not care. This ride just got him out of the castle. That was all that was important. 

“Hey, Jesse,” Genji’s tone changed from the cheerful college kid to something more concerning. “I thought I saw Uncle Shinya’s car. Turn right.” And he did. Within moments the ninja pointed out a black sedan with a license plate belonging to the Shimada Clan’s fleet. It took some doing, but they managed to follow the car all the way into a hospital parking lot. Jesse stopped across the street in a grocery store parking lot. He twisted to look at his friend, wondering what they would do next. Genji removed his helmet as if it would let him see the distant figures better. The gunslinger knew they would not see anyone from this distance. “Something is wrong…” 

“We can go in and ask.” Even to Jesse that sounded like a bad idea. Who would be in the hospital that Mr. Shimada’s younger brother would be visiting?

“No.” It was a firm reply.

“Well, we can call Sombra and have her figure it out. It’s going to bother you until you do.”

Genji removed his phone from the jacket pocket and called their hacker friend. If anyone could find out who was in the hospital, it would be her. “Hey, Sombra,” Genji answered hesitantly.

“Hola, Sparrow!” The bright soprano returned. It always amused Jesse that the girl insisted on using Genji’s childhood nickname. “What can I do for you?”

“Eh, how did you know I needed a favor?”

“No one calls with that tone of voice just to chat. Now, what is it? I’m a little busy.”

“We’re at the Tokyo Center Hospital and my uncle just went in. Can you check and see if someone from my family is there? Possibly my father?” Genji added the last quietly. Jesse frowned at this information. Suddenly that crazy day getting shot at by an upset archer then trying to keep a morose ninja occupied in the arcade made sense. If the Shimada brothers’ father was ill, then that meant the whole alliance was in jeopardy. Hopkins was not ready to take up a treaty with an unknown yakuza boss. It also meant Hanzo was next in line. The gunslinger bit the inside of his lips as he listened. This obviously was not knowledge meant to reach Hopkins’s ears. 

There was tense silence as they waited for Sombra’s answer. “Huh.” The mild surprise caught Jesse off guard. He twisted further to look at Genji’s phone. “Sojiro Shimada is a patient there. Looks like he checked in for an outpatient procedure. Didn’t think he’d use his real name.”

“Thank you, Sombra.” Genji hung up on her and stared at the blank phone. Jesse knew there were choice words waiting for them when they faced the demon hacker again.

“Do you want to go in?” Jesse tried to break the young ninja from his thoughts.

“No.”

“Alright. But I think your brother deserves to know too.” The cowboy was given a painful grimace. Jesse heaved a sigh and plucked Genji’s phone from his hands and redialed Sombra. The Spanish that greeted him was better left un-translated. “Hey. Do me a favor and tell Hanzo. Just tell him what you told Genji.”

“Alright, but you owe me.”

“Yeah, I know. We can work out the details later. I’m on my way back. Thanks.”

“ _De nada,”_ Sombra hung up this time and Jesse passed the phone back to his friend. There really wasn’t anything more to be done. He waited until Genji was ready and took them directly back to the garage. The trip home was not nearly as entertaining as the first half. He hoped the young ninja took the time to go through his thoughts.

{}}}}{{{{}

The plain wooden veneer of the hospital room door held only the numbers 2356. No other indication of who was behind them. Sombra had given him all the information required to pay an unexpected visit on the occupants. When Hanzo opened the door, he was greeted to the sight of his father and uncle sitting in the plastic hospital recliners. The leader of the Shimada Clan concealed under a thick blue quit decorated with the twin white dragons of the family crest. Only his head with his long graying black hair tied back in a loose tail showed above the blanket. A thin tube ran from a clear plastic bag hanging beside the recliner under the blankets to insert in Hanzo’s father at a point he could not see. Both older men turned to look at the archer when the door opened. 

Both were surprised to see him.

“You lied to us,” Hanzo greeted coolly. He could not be properly angry with his father as it was his father’s decision who knew about his health. But after the conversation that revealed his father’s condition, Hanzo thought they deserved better than this.

“Hanzo.” Sojiro leaned forward as if to lower the leg rest of his chair and stand. Shinya stopped him with a hand to his shoulder.

“Ani-san. This does need to be talked about.” Shinya stood and bowed slightly towards his older brother. “Call me when the treatment is over.” Hanzo’s uncle did not seem to give his brother a choice as his voice was gentle yet allowed no argument. “This was a sudden development, Hanzo. Don’t be too hard on your father.” His uncle’s soft words as he passed in the doorway surprised the heir. Then Shinya was gone and the door snapped shut behind him. Hanzo stood in the sterile hospital environment, devoid of all personal touch save the quilt on Sojiro’s lap.

“When you said you would include us, I expected something more.” Hanzo sighed and took his duffle from his shoulder and set up the contents on a beside table. A hotpot, the white ceramic teapot with the blue dragon, and the container of green tea. He did not know why he brought this. Only knowing that having a conversation with his father on anything went easier when they shared a cup of tea. It was a grounding to the unknown Hanzo felt when faced with his father’s illness. 

“Hanzo,” his father tried again. His voice tired. A far cry from the strength he presented in front of the Clan. “You are right. I did intend to include you when any major incidents arose. This…”

Hanzo interrupted harshly. His frustration bleeding through. “Is it a relapse or a metastasis?” The last thing he wanted to find out was that the cancer had spread from the lungs to another more dangerous part of the body.

“Currently it appears to be a relapse.” Sojiro returned to a more relaxed position under the quilt. “I had a checkup yesterday and the doctor insisted on a scan. He found evidence of the cancer cells reemerging. That is why we pushed for treatment to begin again sooner than I had an opportunity to talk with you.”

“I see.” Hanzo spoke to the ceramic teapot. He did not. Between his father’s doctor’s appointment and today’s treatment there had been at least three hours where his father could have held a family conference. Finally the hotpot was ready and Hanzo prepared the tea. The warm mellow scent overcame the sharp smell of medical equipment. “So does the doctor believe you will return to remission?” Hanzo set the tray of the teapot and cups between the recliners. And settled in for a difficult afternoon.

“It is a possibility. It is a chronic condition. That is why the doctor is being aggressive with this next round of chemotherapies.” Sojiro took a warm cup in his hands and relished it. Eyes closed and breathing in the steam. “This place gets too cold between the atmosphere and the fluids.”

Hanzo motioned to the blanket. “I noticed you brought out grandmother’s quilt.”

Sojiro’s half smile was directed to the blanket. “A piece of home.” Silence filled the room as they kept company with tea. Hanzo did not know how to continue the conversation. This was his father. The man who raised him. He was not supposed to be vulnerable like this. “Since you have come to visit, I feel like I must take the opportunity to encourage you to direct your attentions elsewhere.”

The comment caught the archer unawares. Gazing sidelong at his father’s mischievous smile, Hanzo groaned. “Is there anyone in the family that does not know?” He had tried to keep the developing relationship private. Something between him and the cowboy. But obviously Hanzo had underestimated the power of family gossip.

“I cannot speak for everyone, but the rumors have reached me. I do not intend to interfere with your love life, just as I don’t with Genji’s, but there will come a need for an heir.” Was this really happening? Hanzo flushed in embarrassment. He had come here to confront his father and was now facing the ‘talk’ about starting a family.

Composing himself took some effort and hiding behind a cup of tea. “I can tell you now that the bylaws only state that the heir must be of Shimada lineage, otherwise there would be no alternative should the immediate line die out. And Uncle Shinya and my cousins are completely able to inherit. All I would have to do is officially adopt someone capable of taking my place.” Hanzo relished the raised eyebrows of surprise on his father’s face. Clearly he had not thought through that option.

Sojiro nodded and raised his cup towards his son. “The Elder’s won’t know what to do with you.” He chuckled. This also surprised Hanzo. 

“They need to learn how to work with someone that knows the bylaws as well, if not better than them.” Hanzo stated firmly.

“I wish you the best then. At least you may have some happiness in a difficult world.” Pouring another cup for both of them Sojiro continued. “I always knew you would need someone that would allow you to find amusement in life.”

“What happened to you not interfering?”

“I am not interfering.” Sojiro sighed. “You needed someone like your mother. Easygoing, cheerful, patient. I did not expect that in the gunslinger from Deadlock.”

“Incessant would be a better descriptor.” Hanzo grumbled as he thought about the few nonbusiness encounters he had with the American. Not that he would change anything, but patient was not the word he would use to describe the man.

“If you prefer.” Sojiro agreed. “Either way, I have seen that you appear … more relaxed in his company. I am glad that you and Genji were able to strike up a friendship with him. It gives me hope that our worst fears about Deadlock and Hopkins won’t be true.”

“Father, is this really an appropriate conversation?” Hanzo tried to hide his emotional distress behind the cup of tea.

With a snort of laughter, Sojiro continued. “Since I don’t have much hope of seeing grandchildren, I think this is entirely appropriate.”

“Have you bothered Genji about this?”

“No. Not yet. We’ll see what happens when he graduates college. But he is going to need someone with reserve and a strong will to put up with his outrageous behavior. But also someone who will join in with his free spirit. I’m sure he will meet that person one day. Just as you needed someone to tell you that it was alright to act like a child sometimes. But that can also match your stubbornness without backing down.”

“Were you serious when you said he was like mother?” Hanzo asked quietly. He had faint memories of the woman. Fond ones. Then nothing but sadness at her loss. Taken by illness. Any mention of her was few and far between. To have his father bring her up now felt strange.

“In some ways. You and I have a tendency to get stuck. Business takes priority. Emotions get pushed aside. Genji and your mother focus more on emotion and being present in the moment. It is a very broad comparison. Other than that, no they are not alike.” Sojiro paused as his thoughts of the past caught up with him. “You are familiar with the opposing forces of Ying and Yang. What one person lacks, the other provides. If I were to guess, you provide him with a direction, a goal. Something to channel his otherwise unorganized energy.”

Hanzo eyed his father. Disbelief etched into his face. This was the last thing he expected to hear from his father. It told him nothing new about his mother. But also made him think about Jesse McCree in a new light. He did not ever consider the man a completion to himself. He had always assumed this was just another fling for the gunslinger. The cowboy took to flirting easily and comfortably. But then why did Hanzo not feel the same compulsions? What did he want from this ordeal?

“Don’t think about it too much, Hanzo,” his father’s amused voice interrupted his thoughts. “When you’re ready, you’ll find who you need. For now, just enjoy being young.” The older man’s voice lowered to a more serious tone. One Hanzo was familiar with. This smart-alec sitting in the hospital could have been a stranger if it wasn’t for the faint memories his teasing brought out. It was nice to know that his father had changed little from the man he had known as a child. “I know I’ve put a lot on you these last couple of years. You handle it all well. I know the Clan will be in good hands. The best piece of advice I can give you is to do what you know is right. Do not let the Elders dictate your decisions. It will be hard. Just because we keep a council to give opinions, they believe their will is law. As leader, you do not want to alienate them, but you will be the one making the decisions. Each one of them could have been leader of the clan save for luck of birth.”

“I understand, father. I won’t forget.” Hanzo settled deeper into the recliner next to his father with a new pot of tea to share. Perhaps the world wasn’t about to fall apart. He could still be a son even while venting his frustrations with his own father. And his father would still find ways to embarrass him. There was something of a normal family left between them. Hanzo hated that it came only when both of them felt so vulnerable. 

}{{{}}}{

Several days past since the visit to the hospital. Hanzo was exhausted with managing the various businesses his family was involved in. The legitimate ones needed care and attention to keep them compliant with regulations and to market their actual products. The various CEOs each had their own difficulties. Each came to the Shimadas for assistance or confirmation as the family owned these massive corporations. As for the illegal trade, that took an entirely different hand. 

Hanzo’s uncles covered much of the day to day problems, but he was gaining a deeper insight into them. Not only the trade in illegal goods but also the assassinations and spies the family specialized in. Overshadowing it all were the stories of unknown assailants attempting to interrupt missions. An assassination in China nearly ruined by unmarked black clad military. A shipment hijacked from the train car as it crossed India. None of their wakaishou could say exactly who was involved. 

As a result the frustration to find a solution was left to Hanzo and his father. Now mainly Hanzo as his father recovered. The oyabun returned from the hospital, presented his stalwart self before the council and told them in no uncertain terms that Hanzo would be taking charge while he reviewed everything from the background. To the Elders it was a clear statement that Sojiro needed to know how his son would handle the business before assuming total authority. For the oyabun, it was a chance to recover from exhaustive treatments. Hanzo assumed his new duties without hesitation. Father and son needed to appear to be seamless in their command. It was safest for both. Sojiro had finally admitted to Hanzo that the rest of the family did not know the extent of his illness. Only Shinya had the deep confidences of the oyabun. And now Hanzo.

With his world changing, Hanzo forced himself to take a moment to relax. He took a warm bottle of sake to the temple steps and spent the evening watching the crisp Full Moon rise over the shadows of Mt. Fuji. He had arched an eyebrow at the second cup resting in the insulated basket. Clearly his own attempt at keeping a secret was failing. But then that could be because the American was loud and unhindered by the same burdens.

Hanzo let his mind drift alongside the wisps of clouds passing across the face of the moon. His mind traced the rabbit making _mochi_ as he had learned as a child. Then switching to trying to find the man on the moon the Western societies claimed to see. He tried to ease his tensions and forget about the growing pile of problems. He would face them in the morning with a clear mind.

The bottle was half empty when familiar heavy, thudding footsteps announced the arrival of a certain cowboy. Hanzo glanced over his shoulder and sure enough the black leather hat and worn leather coat accented the silhouette of the gunslinger. “Evening,” Jesse tipped his hat with a small nod. It had been quite some time since the two of them shared any sort of private moment. “Can I join you?”

For the briefest of seconds, Hanzo’s brain told him to say no. This was his time for private meditation. Then the rest of his mind reminded him that Jesse knew how to handle the quiet moments. “If you wish,” Hanzo sat up properly from where he had been leaning against a pillar. He motioned to the stairs next to him. It would force Jesse to sit on Hanzo’s left side, complicating the cowboy’s efforts to keep his gun hand free. While the archer poured the second cup of warm sake, Jesse eased his large American frame to the step below Hanzo. This was so he could sit close and not disturb the set up of the sake.

“It’s a nice night.” The same words and almost the same voice as the night back in Dorado. Jesse’s head tilted up to watch the moon as well, his hat tipped back revealing his strong profile. The neatly trimmed beard could use a razor. 

“It is,” Hanzo agreed gently and held the small clay cup over the cowboy’s shoulder. He watched as mild surprise lit up the man’s eyes and he cradled the cup in the tips of his calloused fingers.

“So this is sake, huh?” Jesse quirked his lips in thought then gave a small shrug before finally taking a sip. Hanzo waited. And was not disappointed. Jesse chuckled as he studied the dark blue glazed cup. “Not bad. Not half bad, but I think I prefer a little more bite to my liquor.”

With a small snort of amusement, Hanzo smiled. “Then you know nothing of subtlety.” He did not expect what occurred next.

Jesse slid his right hand along the inner arm of Hanzo’s left, following the dragon tattoo from where it peeked out from the loose overcoat. The warm, dry callouses grazed the sensitive skin of his inner wrist then continued on until their fingers intertwined and their palms pressed together. It was a far more intimate gesture than Hanzo was expecting. He felt his heart caught in his throat when he glanced over to find Jesse gazing back at him from under the brim of the cowboy hat. The intensity of the gaze pushed Hanzo further off guard. 

He knew what was supposed to happen. Everything in popular culture made the next steps glaringly obvious, but Hanzo had never thought this would happen to him. He had rebuffed every other attempt, knowing he had no desire for it. Now he was faced with someone he had grown to trust. Hanzo was stuck between curiosity and irritation. A burning in the pit of his gut clashed with a chill down his spine as Jesse leaned further in.

“I’d like to think I know something of subtlety.” The cowboy felt impossibly close. The black hat blocked everything except the honey colored highlighted face of Jesse McCree. Their clasped hands between them as the gunslinger maneuvered to reach out with his right hand to brush back the loose strands of Hanzo’s hair. The archer caught pure amazement and wonder in Jesse’s eyes at the small motion. It was as if he was being allowed to touch a priceless artifact for the first time. The motion was both strange in its innocence and oddly relaxing in its intimacy. A motion Hanzo never thought he would enjoy.

Then Jesse’s palm cupped his cheek and Hanzo returned to the reality of what was happening. He bit the inside of his lip as he tried to decide on his next course of action. If it hadn’t been for that ridiculously absurd conversation with his father, Hanzo would not even be entertaining this moment. Hanzo knew what the world expected in regards to relationships. He had always thought the romantic and sexual trysts in movies were needless and got in the way of a good story. Now life was throwing him into such a scene. 

Jesse was brave to be doing this. To expose his desire in such a clear way. Hanzo had suspected this was the cowboy’s intentions all along, but Hanzo could not recall ever truly inviting such attentions. Had he done or said something that he himself had misunderstood or not realized the implications of? It wasn’t that he would never want this. But the cold chill suddenly drenched his nervous system and Hanzo had his hand against Jesse’s chest, firmly pressing him away, before the archer completely realized what his body was doing. 

“No,” he breathed. It took several more breaths before Hanzo felt his racing heart return to a semblance of a normal rhythm. 

Jesse’s eyes widen in surprise then the briefest of moments fear that he had done something wrong. Gone too far. Finally his brow creased in confusion and he leaned in just a bit more, “Bu—“

“My boundaries or not at all,” Hanzo concluded with more confidence. He didn't know what he was doing here. McCree obviously was not new to sexual relations. The weight against his hand lifted and the cowboy released the other hand. Jesse pulled away completely, his entire body tense. His fists clenched at his side. He took the few steps away to stand by the railing overlooking the cityscape below. Hanzo heard the frustrated mutters and watched the flame of a lighter glow under the shadows of the Stetson. He sighed and rested his chin in his left hand to watch. Wondering if he had made a mistake.

The emotional turmoil in Hanzo slowly settled. He made a new realization in those moments. He missed the warmth of another body close to him. The comfortable presence of someone he trusted next to him. And apparently he wanted the innocent things he had watched in the movies. But was there something wrong with him for not wanting the kiss? With so much sexuality in mass media and social culture, what was he missing when his body did not crave the same thing?

An explosive, “Alright!” from the shadowed figure at the railing tore Hanzo from his thoughts. What followed was another, more resigned set of, “Alright…. Alright. Fine.” Jesse tilted his head back and blew a thick stream of smoke at the moon to release the last of his frustration.

Hanzo cracked a small smile when the most ridiculous thought formed in his head. “I do not think I have ever realized how expressive you are.”

An annoyed scowl greeted him. A small upturn of Jesse’s lip and a crease in his nose. Another fully expressed emotion clear as day on the cowboy’s face. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“No,” Hanzo stood and took a steadying breath for what he was about to decide. “It’s endearing.” He did not want Jesse to think this was the end of everything. Hanzo still wanted to get to know this man from the American desert. This man that showed so much and still manage to keep secrets.

“Odd way of saying you like it,” Jesse muttered. He snuffed the cigarette butt and flicked it over the cliff. None of the gardeners would find it there. “So… Your boundaries? What are they?” Jesse asked gamely. 

Hanzo shrugged, standing next to the cowboy. “I don’t know.” He could feel the frustration begin to boil again inside of the man who had become his friend and partner. Hanzo watched the twinkling city lights below them and forced himself to continue. “I do know what I am comfortable with, what I am not. And what I am willing to push against.” The ninja tilted his head to look up at the cowboy, trying to gauge his emotional state. When Hanzo was certain the gunslinger understood the implications of that statement, he slipped his hand into Jesse’s left and squeezed it gently. “For now, this is comfortable.” Hanzo rested his head against the leather clad shoulder and tried to focus on the comfort the motion brought rather than the anxiety caused by the strangeness of the situation.

A heavy, violent sigh surged through the gunslinger’s chest. “You’re killing me, darling.”

Rolling his eyes, Hanzo used their clasped hands to pull Jesse back to the steps. He released it only to pour another cup of sake for both of them. Then he settled against the pillar offering the cup to Jesse again. This time when the cowboy sat on the steps, he drew Hanzo’s left dragon tattooed arm into his lap and traced the intricate pattern with the tips of his fingers. Hanzo took a breath and reminded himself that this was alright. It was the same inspection he had done with the Deadlock Rebels tattoo on Jesse’s arm many times before. 

Silence returned to the chilly winter night. The full moon watching over them. Eventually Hanzo felt a warm weight against his left shoulder. Jesse chose to lean against him in a very similar way Hanzo had just done at the railing. The cowboy was testing the borders. Finding what he could do and where he could push Hanzo to accept affection a little bit further. The archer gave a half smile as he glanced down. He couldn't see the cowboy’s face because of the hat. Tightening his grip on Jesse’s hand ever so slightly, he conveyed reassurance and acceptance. This he could do. It might not be everything Jesse wanted, but it was exactly what Hanzo needed.

{}}}}{{{{}

From that night on Jesse ignored everything Genji and Sombra said. No, he was not completely satisfied with the direction this crazy relationship was taking him, but it just made him even more fascinated with the son of the yakuza boss. Attractive, strong, an unbreakable force of will, and reserved. Jesse still loved every second he got the stoic archer to smile. And now he had an new arsenal to play with. Jesse tried not to push to far. Not that he got enough moments with Hanzo as it was.

The archer was constantly busy with the yakuza business now. They occasionally had conversations at dinner. Most of the time though Hanzo was still conducting business with his uncles and cousins. Jesse was understanding more of that Japanese and as a result could identify some of the places Hanzo was encountering trouble. Most of the time though he spent his time with Sombra or Genji. When those two were busy, he returned to the weight room. Going to the shooting range without Hanzo was not nearly as satisfying. Still he made himself go to keep in practice. He was back to wandering the castle grounds with nothing constructive to do.

That was how he followed Sombra up to the computer rooms. A place he had never been allowed before. This time the foot soldiers did not stop him. Thinking Sombra had permission to bring him. Jesse highly doubted that. He had just continued their conversation as she went to work. Granted Jesse was slightly curious as to what she did all day in front of computers, but when he realized he could not read a single bit of the screen, he knew he had made a mistake. His day was wasted. He wasn’t about to leave and let Sombra make fun of him. But he couldn’t even read some of the other screens in Japanese so he could not report back any Shimada secrets.

A Spanish explicative caught his attention. Along with everyone else in the room. “ _No you don’t, bastards,”_ Sombra muttered to her purple screens. She started to move her fingers furiously over keys that appeared and disappeared at her will. Soon other computer nerds cursed at their screens. The room filled with frustrated and angry muttering and a flurry of hands.

Jesse should have known better but he leaned in to watch Sombra’s screens. “What’s going on?”

“I was toying with some Overwatch hacker and some unknown decided to try and take advantage—“ Sombra cut herself off as she focused on her coding.

The communications director frowned over Sombra’s shoulder. “Now she’s having to try and stop two or more hackers and their viruses from breaking our security.” These self proclaimed cyber-warriors took their jobs very seriously and every available hand was at work on a station. “ _Sasaki, get Hanzo-sama or oyabun. They need to know.”_

Jesse did not know what exactly was happening, but he knew that should either attacker gain access to Shimada’s databases then everything was at risk. The Japanese government was perfectly happy to think Shimada was nothing more than a wealthy businessman and philanthropist but others out there knew the truth. Overwatch had tried to breach their security once and almost succeeded. Now Talon might be trying the same thing.

“ _NO!_ ” one of the Japanese coders shouted at his black monitor. He pushed himself back roughly out of frustration. Then another cried out in dismay. “ _I’m shut out.”_ All twelve of them faced blank monitors within minutes. Only Sombra’s purple holographic screens remained active. With nothing else to do, the cyber-warriors crowded around to watch and give encouragement or insights. Sombra bit her bright pink lip and tried to focus.

From behind McCree the men made way for Hanzo, who came up and stood directly behind Sombra’s chair. Next to the communications director. He spoke in English, clearly wanting everyone in the room to understand him. His voice was firm and commanding. “Who is attacking us?” Apparently the leader of the Shimada Clan was not yet well enough to return to his position of authority.

“Sombra indicated Overwatch was one of the attackers, sir. She was teasing someone, trying to get into his systems. A couple of hours later this happened. A second attacker tried to use her distraction as a way to infiltrate our systems. Satou delayed the unknown attacker long enough for Sombra to start to combat him. But between the two attackers, sir, they shut down our systems.”

The pink haired Mexican growled at her screens. “Damn it! No you don’t!” Jesse was still clueless as to how Sombra managed to fight off these attacks. He dealt with face to face threats. This was beyond him. And if he read Hanzo’s face right, it was almost beyond the yakuza boss in training. The tight frown on the man’s face and creases in his forehead told McCree that he was uncertain.

“Sombra?”

“Hang on,” the hacker answered absently. Understandably distracted. They waited. Purple and silver fingernails flew through the keyboard and holographic images. They didn’t stop when Sombra decided to answer, but they did seem more controlled. Less reactionary. “I got the one from Overwatch cornered. He’ll take a while to get out of that virus I sent him. This other one. It isn’t looking for information. It is just trying to shut everything down. Burn it.” She shrugged. “I’m guessing Talon. But can’t say for sure. I mean it could be Blackwatch for all I know right now. You know, tag teaming us.”

“Blackwatch?” The term was a new one to Jesse. McCree bet it had something to do with the goons he dealt with back in Deadlock Gorge.

Sombra confirmed this when she said, “Yeah, Blackwatch is Overwatch’s gang of assassins and bullies. Filled with convicted criminals who enjoy throwing other criminals under the bus. Does stuff that Overwatch isn’t allowed to do. In places Overwatch isn’t allowed. So I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re trying to expose you Shimadas. But I’m still thinking this other guy is Talon. Even Blackwatch would want information to take you down. Talon on the other hand… they want you out of the way.”

Hanzo pinched the bridge of his nose as he thought. It was a gesture Jesse was seeing a lot now. “Can you find them? So we can send a team to disrupt them?”

“Overwatch is in Switzerland. You don’t want to go there. This other guy… Shit!” Sombra was back to frantically waving her hands through the holographic images. They flickered a couple of times causing gasps of horror among the other nerds. Eventually they stabilized under Sombra’s fingertips. “Got you!” the hacker said victoriously and furiously keyed in another long string of code. “Ha. Take that!” With a final stroke of a iridescent purple key all of the other screens returned and Sombra sat back satisfied. 

“I take it they are locked out of our systems now?” Hanzo asked.

“Yeah. I got them locked out of their own systems for a few hours to days. They won’t be trying that again anytime soon. Though you know, as great as all this hardware is, you need some updated software. Without the best tech in the world they will do this again.” Sombra crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair to grin up at the acting yakuza boss.

Hanzo sighed. “Ueno, please prepare to upgrade the software. Sombra will assist. I will ensure the funds are made available.” The archer turned to leave and Sombra cocked her head to the side, clearly itching to say more.

“If I told you I could find the location and time of Blackwatch’s physical surveillance of your activities….”

“Speak plainly, Sombra,” Hanzo turned around, a tight glare pinning her to her seat.

“I got the information. But when you go after them, I want to go.”

“You want to go…” Hanzo digested this information. “How soon will we need to depart to make the most of it?”

“Tonight. Maybe early tomorrow morning. They’re going to be set up by tomorrow night.” Sombra plucked a holographic square from her screen. Standing she walked to face the archer before unfurling her hand and revealing a screen with information. Jesse could not read it properly from his angle, but assumed it was the location of the Blackwatch agent. He felt a grin of anticipation form on his lips. Payback time.

“McCree, find Sora and take Sombra to Suzuki. Tell him to get the team prepared to leave by ten tonight.” Hanzo was already striding out the door.

“Get your own runner!” Jesse growled at being ordered around.

The archer did not bother to turn around or stop. “Get your gun, or you’re not going.” McCree ground his teeth in resentment and only started moving when the demon hacker dragged him out by his arm.


	9. Trial by Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> External pressures start heating up.

**Chapter 9: Trial by Fire**

“Why do you want to come?” Jesse asked the pink haired hacker as she carefully applied the neon yellow body paint into the iconic skeleton of Los Muertos. McCree lounged in Sombra’s desk chair, his revolver sans bullets strapped to his hip in its holster. Sombra’s mini machine-gun lay on her bed. It had only been a couple of months and she had turned the small room from a blank white prison cell to mishmash of posters and artwork. Purple was the predominate color. 

They had just come from Suzuki’s workshop and Jesse had sat back and watched the two females chatter about guns and technology. While they discussed plans for Sombra’s new gun and a current alternative, McCree commented on how well the Harley road. Sora grinned proudly as any owner of a magnificent bike should. He promised one day he would have his own bike and they could cruise together. It was just right to ride in a pack.

While the Shimada team prepared for departure, Sombra and McCree were left to gather what little they needed. For the next three hours there was nothing to do but wait. Hanzo was busy with his own preparations and possibly getting permission from the council and his father for this expedition. Sombra put on her warpaint and McCree badgered her with questions.

“Hey, a girl’s got to get out. Just because I enjoy computers and hacking, doesn’t mean I don’t realize that sometimes the only way to get information is to go to the source.” Sombra tilted her face to study her work in the mirror. She wore her capris and a sports bra. She didn’t care much about modesty considering that this was basically the outfit they met her in. The jacket lay on the bed next to her weapon. “You know whatever gear Blackwatch brought is going to be of immense interest.”

“Figures. You’re only in it for the tech.”

“Yeah, that’s basically it.” The Mexican teen shrugged and started to work on her legs.

Jesse sighed and fiddled with an unlit cigarette. He could easily step outside and smoke until the Shimada cousins were ready. But waiting alone had gotten dull. “So, why this whole getup?”

“Really, cowboy? You’re asking me that?” Sombra did not bother to look up from painting the yellow stripes into leg bones. 

“Well, yeah. We never see Los Muertos without it and quite frankly it seems a bit much for daily wear.”

“It’s all about image. That and skeletons are terrifying to most people. And cheaper than tattoos. Not to mention removable.” She had moved on to her arms and stomach. “I mean why don’t you get the full ensemble. You got the hat and the boots and the gun. But you look funny in that leather vest.”

“Don’t go insulting my choice in clothing.”

“Please. You’re a biker without a bike. The least you could do is go full cowboy.”

McCree rolled his eyes. “You done?”

“Maybe.” Sombra grinned. She had finished her body paints. Now for it to dry. “We could go bother Genji.”

“Naw, he’s run off to the arcade with his friends. He doesn’t seem to stick around whenever Hanzo’s getting ready for a big mission.” Jesse shrugged, continuing to roll the cigarette in his fingers. 

“They won’t let me back in.” The hacker frowned, collecting her gear.

“It’s your own fault for hacking the games.”

“They were all so boring. I just made the computer more interesting to play against.”

“That’s not the point, Sombra,” Jesse groaned. He stood to stretch his legs. “Besides I think he’s become more petulant since he found out about his father.” Genji was not himself these past few weeks. The green haired ninja spent longer hours at university or in the arcade. Jesse had not seen him at the family dinners. Though listening to the cousins and uncles, this was not unusual behavior for the kid. The fact that Genji had stayed for so many because of Jesse and Sombra was the real oddity. The gunslinger slipped the cigarette between his lips and started to walk down the hall. He tucked his hands into his pockets.

Sombra’s slippered feet padded after him. He glanced back and saw her sneakers and jacket in her hands. Mini machine-gun clipped to her belt. It also had no bullets yet. “No, he only started acting like this when he realized Hanzo was running the family. Same timeframe though. You weren’t joking when you said he didn’t like the family business.”

“Nope. Sure does like being a ninja though.”

“Well, duh. Who doesn’t like being a ninja.”

Jesse looked horrified. “Uh, cowboys!”

Sombra rolled her eyes and threw her jacket over her shoulder. “Don’t even pretend to play this game, Jesse. They have metrics on this stuff. Searches for how to be a ninja far out number searches on how to be a cowboy. You’re not going to win.” McCree scowled and let her have it. He wasn’t going to win this one. Ninjas were without a doubt cool. He may have wanted to be one for a brief moment before getting hooked on the classic cowboy movies. 

“Hanzo!” Sombra’s high pitched voice broke through any thoughts Jesse had. He glanced over and saw the archer in his black ninja battle wear. Sword at his hip. Bow and arrows on his back. The tattoo was hidden under the leather armored sleeve. The yakuza heir was going in for serious battle. Not the little side missions they had seen before now. “So they agreed?”

“They are not pleased with the proposal, but they understand the consequences should we not remove Blackwatch immediately.” Hanzo’s face was severe. Standing tall, he looked very much like a general ready to lead his troops into war. McCree thought it suited the man. Not that he would ever say this aloud. He would never hear the end of it should Sombra get wind of it.

“Then let’s go!” The hacker darted for the door, pausing only to change shoes. Then she was gone. No doubt to the hanger where they kept the hover transports. 

McCree stayed and studied his partner from under the shade of his wide brimmed hat. Something else was going on here. “You’re going to get her the tech, aren’t you?”

“That has not been decided.” Hanzo said firmly. A frown formed on the pretty clean shaven face, deepening the stress lines already present. The archer started to the door, leaving Jesse to stare after him. Not that the broad shoulders and narrow waist weren’t a sight to behold, McCree still couldn’t place why this mission felt different.

“You are,” he called, a broad grin on his face. He was confident in that observation. Sombra wanted the Overwatch technology and Hanzo wanted the information stored in their computers. It only made sense. 

Hanzo’s distant voice returned, “That remains to be seen.” Jesse knew a victory when he heard one. And he would make this one unforgettable. He traded his red slippers for the snakeskin boots. The pause allowed the archer to stride quite a distance ahead of the gunslinger. The team would not leave without him. So this gave Jesse time to think. 

What would have the heir to the Shimada Clan coiled so tightly he was ready to snap? They had already tangled with Overwatch goons before. Hell, this would be Jesse's third time. The family dynamics of the yakuza clan were a bear to wrap his head around. Mr. Shimada ran things with military precision. Still he had a council made up of his uncles and similarly aged cousins, and the husbands of his sisters. That council was something between an authorizing entity and a point of reference for the leader. It seemed Mr. Shimada and Hanzo could do nothing without their approval. Did running this multimillion dollar organization really put that much stress on the young yakuza boss in training? Or did the so called Elders demand something from the archer?

Jesse frowned. He did not like seeing Hanzo this way. The man knew how to lead without whatever added pressure was on him right now.

}{{{}}}{

The dark alleyway had seen better days. Water from the recent rainstorm pooled among seeping dumpsters. Not even the stray cats ventured out tonight. It made the stillness uncomfortable. Jesse’s neck hairs had been standing on end from the moment the hovercraft dropped them off on the roof of an apartment building. Hanzo and his ninja team, Sora and Hiro, bounded across the rooftops to their target. McCree and Sombra were told to secure the ground level exits. 

Jesse knew what bothered him now. They were making the assault on Overwatch. Not the other way around. Before everything had been self defense. This was war. One Overwatch had started but now the Shimadas were escalating. 

Zenkichi had the transport above street view but below the air traffic for an immediate escape. Ikko and a small team of drivers had come earlier in the day to leave getaway cars in various places should they not be able to reach the roofs. The Shimadas definitely knew how to stage a war. Another team from a separate transport took the main entrance of the building and would draw out the Blackwatch agents. In under an hour, the ninjas had formed a tidy little trap for their unwanted guests. McCree was suitably impressed. 

A sonic device resonated against the cement walls. Jesse glanced up from where he and Sombra waited in the shadows of the alley. Five figures in the room the hacker had identified as their target. 

“You said it was a small team hold up here, right?” Jesse asked Sombra as they watched the figures in the room move restlessly. 

“Yeah. There were six names on the roster.”

“Where’s the sixth?” Both of them held their breath and surveyed the surroundings. Sombra eventually dropped back to hide the light from her computer screens behind Jesse’s broad shoulders. McCree focused on the soft Japanese chatter. They were wondering the same thing. “If they’re smart they’ll have one watching the exterior from a different angle. Check for snipers.” His call over the communication link spurred one of the ninjas from the second team to circle around. Jesse could not see the rooftops from his ground level angle. 

The sonic device’s energy ran out and they could no longer see the five human shapes within the room. The gunslinger’s eyes roamed the edges of the rooflines he could see. He saw no sign of movement. None from the ninjas and none from the targets. Jesse wondered what the ninjas were planning. Their radios had gone silent. 

“Sombra?” McCree asked the teen behind him.

“Radio silence imposed by a jamming device I’ve never seen. I’m working on it.” The hacker typed away on her screens. “But I found the sixth guy. The sniper is on the roof above us.”

“That doesn’t help us with the radio problem.”

“It’s what, five against eight? Hanzo’s got that room covered. We can get the one on the roof out of the way.” Sombra tugged at Jesse’s jacket. The cowboy turned away from the entrance to the alley. The hacker closed her computer and grinned up at him. She released the mini machine pistol from her clip. “Let’s go. I can figure out the radio thing once we don’t have to worry about the guy up there.” Sombra pointed to the roof.

McCree glanced over his shoulder. Still no movement from the window. “Right. That assumes that guy doesn’t see us coming.”

“Got that covered.” Sombra grinned and trotted towards the fire escape to the back of the designated building. “Just need you to take the other fire escape.” Jesse sighed. This was not how he expected the battle to go. 

“I’m the decoy, aren’t I,” McCree groaned. The office building was only six stories high. He started the climb. He hoped Sombra knew what she was doing. Now he could go one on one with a sniper if he had to, but not if the sniper was waiting for him. Sombra’s plan had better be more than him distracting the sixth man. 

“I thought you’d never make it,” Sombra’s voice came over his earpiece before Jesse reached the rooftop. He crouched on the last landing to avoid being seen by anyone on the roof. 

“Did you fix the coms?” McCree muttered into his device.

“No, just yours. You were the only one close enough for me to hack.” Sombra’s voice crackled against the Overwatch disruption. “So the sniper is set up behind the air-conditioning unit. That means his back is to you. I wager you have one possibly two chances. I got you covered.”

“That’s what I’m worried about.” Jesse scowled. He had to trust Sombra’s directions. Which did not give him much confidence. Though he knew Sombra needed time to fix the communications without distractions, it annoyed him that they could not coordinate with the ninjas. Crouched low, McCree climbed over the ledge of the roof to avoid being seen. He did not see the man immediately.

“I can see Sora and Hiro from here,” Sombra’s voice startled Jesse and he had to stop to avoid causing a disturbance. “They could be in the line of sight. I am not sure why he hasn’t fired yet.”

“Because the ninjas haven’t gone on the offensive yet.” McCree frowned. He had expected the teams to act by now. “Damn it. The moment we strike, it will begin. You sure you can’t get that jamming frequency down? Or can you figure out where the other five have gone?” He had his back to the humming air conditioning unit. Jesse had to keep his voice down, according to Sombra the sniper was just on the other side. The problem was he couldn’t see Sombra and couldn’t guarantee her safety once the firefight started. “Where are you anyway?”

“Look up.” 

McCree glanced up and found an antenna tower. At the top a hint of yellow in the dark sky. “What are you doing up there?”

“Getting in touch with Zenkichi. Hey, I’m trying to get communications back. You’re supposed to be taking care of the sniper. Go around towards your right.”

“Right…” Jesse eased his revolver free of the holster. He crept around the humming box of metal. The sniper lay on his belly staring through the scope of a rifle. The armor the Blackwatch sniper wore covered all the easy vital spots. The man was also single-mindedly focused on the targets across the street. This was going to take more than one or two shots. He just hoped the ninjas would adapt. What were they waiting for anyway?

He took aim from the corner of the air conditioning unit. The sharp echoing of the revolver shot shattered the silence of the night. The rifle and scope exploded into the sniper’s face. Jesse had his next shot ready as the Blackwatch agent ripped off his damaged helmet. The man underneath glared ferociously. Blood trickling down his dark forehead. Jesse fired the next round. The man leapt to his feet and the bullet buried itself in the man’s shoulder. McCree growled in annoyance. The agent was fast. And the armor was tough. Jesse caught a glimpse of a small pistol in the agent’s hand. It was point blank range. He had to be doing some sort of damage. He emptied his revolver into man. 

These goons were better prepared than the ones he dealt with back in Deadlock Gorge. Jesse wondered if it said something about what Overwatch thought of their respective organizations. And McCree was certain Blackwatch thought Shimada was more of a threat. He darted behind the giant metal box as the peashooter blaster cut through the corner of the shell to the machinery. Sparks showered the rooftop.

The ninjas had better make the most of this.

McCree slammed six new bullets into his revolver. He caught the sniper between the eyes as he rounded the air conditioning unit. “Nice shot,” Sombra’s voice answered over the comm. 

“Any luck with the communication?” Jesse asked, toeing the corpse.

“I need to get closer.” Sombra dropped from the tower. “Apparently Zenkichi can reach the other hovercraft but no one on the ground. His infrared sights say they are rather busy.”

“With what? Are they seriously fighting in the building?” McCree scowled at the brick walls making up the exterior.

“Only one way to find out. Besides, I need to get to the source.” Sombra grinned. “See you downstairs.” The hacker tossed a thin wire to the other rooftop. The moment the grappling hook caught the ledge, Sombra swung into the air.

Jesse growled in annoyance. “Sombra!” He got a little wiggle of her fingers as a response. Why did she do these things anyway.

Leaning over the ledge Jesse watched the teenage hacker skirt the edge of the target building apparently to get closer to the device causing radio blackout. At least Sombra had a plan. Until shattered glass rained down around her. Jesse searched for the cause, not wanting a surprise attack to interrupt her hacking. He spotted an arrow in the neighboring building. So the ninjas were active after all. And in a place where he couldn’t help. 

This was not going well.

McCree forced an exhale. He would have to loose sight of everyone in order to reach ground level. He didn’t like it. Jesse stepped over the Blackwatch sniper and made his way to the fire escape. The metal railing clattered under his boots, sounding horribly loud in the night. If there was any Overwatch agents nearby he was screwed. Any moment now the fight would spill outside. Jesse’s boots splashed in the one remaining puddle in the alley. Just one more annoyance to make this night even worse.

He hated working alone. It made the hairs on his neck stand on end. Turning the corner to the broader alleyway where he last saw Sombra, McCree caught sight of an unpleasant surprise. Three goons in black armor with pulse rifles. So much for a quiet assault. He darted back behind the brick wall. “Sombra! Behind you!” She was still pecking away at her holographic computer screen.

“I almost got it!” She hissed back. Rifle fire interrupted her radio feed. Jesse couldn’t see it but he knew those bullets hit the moment Sombra screamed in pain. That made his decision. He spun around the corner fanning the hammer of his revolver. That made the three duck for cover. McCree tucked and rolled across the expanse before the Blackwatch backup recovered.

Pulling Sombra behind the edge of the building into the bed of broken glass, Jesse took stock of her injuries. She was bleeding from the right leg. Great. “You said you were close. How much time do you need?” Jesse asked instead, reloading his revolver. It was just a matter of time before the agents attempted to come around the corner. With the amount of blood from Sombra’s leg, she needed some sort of attention immediately.

“A few more seconds.” The hacker grimaced at her leg.

“Then you’re going to have hold them off until I can cover you.” Jesse ripped his red bandana from his neck and started to tie it around the three bullet holes in Sombra’s calf.

“Eww! I don’t want your sweaty clothes as bandages.”

“Less complaining. More shooting.” Jesse growled when rifle fire demolished a patch of pavement near his boot. The mini machine gun aimed over his shoulder and the rifle ceased. Still he hurried tying the knot. “Now, get the radio back up!”

“Alright!” Sombra curled up against the wall and relit her holographic screens. Jesse crouched next to her and waited. The pause in the gunfire bothered him. What about this night hadn’t bothered him. He poked his head around the corner. The three agents had defensive positions behind small energy shields. This was far more than he signed up for. Blackwatch definitely didn’t like the Shimadas. He took two shots before the goons took a bead on him. He ducked back behind the wall. This set up needed more time. A better set up. Something needed to give in this situation. “Got it!” Sombra cheered.

“Blackwatch got backup!” McCree shouted over the communication line. “Three between the offices. Sombra, they have energy shields. Can you get them down?”

“Can I? Well of course.” Despite the confidence, Jesse heard the grimace as the hacker moved to get whatever tool she needed. A bright ticking accompanied Sombra’s next move. “Push the center button then toss this into the pack.” He took the small circular device and only hoped it did as advertised.

“Can you buy me five seconds?” This would be messy. And no guarantee on the kills.

“Maybe I can get you three.” Sombra shifted awkwardly to try and get in position.

The cowboy frowned. “That will have to do.” He stood and prepared himself to step around the corner. He preferred to use the technique when he was unnoticed by his targets. With the ninjas occupied indoors, this was not his idea of a good set up.

“McCree,” Hanzo’s voice suddenly answered over the radio. “Toss the EMP. I have you covered.”

“About time you answered!”

“I’ve been busy. Now focus on the task at hand.”

“Here goes nothing.” The confident grin started to return. There was a chance. Jesse pressed the activation button on Sombra’s device and tossed it into the group. He started to focus immediately. Even the scattering projectiles distracting the backup didn’t disturb him. He searched for weaknesses in the black armor. Not killing shots, but enough to disable them. Should do. He took the shots. Three men went down. Not bad for five seconds against well armored soldiers. Two were bleeding out of thigh wounds. One held a stomach wound. From his distance he watched the scene and noticed the small movements of goons trying to regroup. He shot the hand of the first trying to reach for a hand gun. “Nice try, fellas.” The next two shots caught the second goon with the thigh wound in the shoulder as he reached for his pulse rifle. “Why don’t you tell Shotguns I said hi when you get back.”

“Who?”

“Don’t worry, he’ll know.” McCree grinned as he reloaded his revolver. The goon with the stomach wound was too busy trying to stay alive than to find his gun. He retreated to Sombra. “Time to get out of here. Get on.” Reluctantly he holstered the revolver and crouched down. Now that the excitement was ebbing, he felt a warm trickle along his cheek. Touching it with his gloved fingers, dark damp red ooze coated the leather. “Really? You’re shaving those arrows awfully close.” He added towards Hanzo. 

“It bought you the time you needed. Stop complaining.” The archer’s terse voice answered.

His current partner had other plans for post conflict conversation. “This is not how you carry a lady.” Sombra whined, even as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

McCree anchored his arms around the hacker’s thighs to keep her in the piggyback position. “Sorry, sweetheart. Until we don’t have to worry about running, this is the best it gets.” Together they headed away from the site of Blackwatch’s hideout. “Hey Zenkichi, Sombra’s injured. I’m taking her to getaway car number three.”

“Car three is taken. Can you get to car four?” Zenkichi answered. Cars one and two were reserved for critically injured. It would be a bit of a jog to the forth but they could make it.

“Guess it’s car numero cuatro.” Jesse readjusted Sombra and promptly ignored her complaints. He did slow his pace for the longer trek. The path wove through back alleys for several blocks. “How are you holding up?”

“Great… There are a thousand things I’d rather be doing right now.” Sombra’s eye roll was audible in her dry sarcasm.

“Just keep an eye out.” He continued on. There was no sign of the ninjas. Every step brought paranoia. If there was one group of backup, there could be more. When they finally reached the small sedan, Jesse’s arms felt like lead. “Good to stand?”

“Mostly.”

“Good.” He eased her down so she could brace against the car. “Alright Princess, I promise I’ll carry you properly up to your room.” McCree opened the car door.

“You better.” Sombra poked him in the nose. Then she levered herself into the passenger seat. 

McCree trotted to the driver’s side. He ducked to maneuver his large frame into the tiny car. He was really hating these Japanese vehicles. Give him a good motorcycle any day. A sudden thud on the roof startled him into jerking upright. Hitting his head. “Shit!”

“Hurry up, McCree. Law enforcement will arrive soon.” Hanzo’s voice moved behind Jesse towards the trunk of the car.

“Don’t do that!” Jesse rubbed the back of his head and scowled at Sombra for snickering. The archer was stowing his gear.

“Your gun. Yours too, Sombra.” The heir to the Shimada clan held out his hand to receive the weapons.

Jesse balked. “You’re kidding me, right.”

“No. We will be taking public roads and will be subject to visibility of public surveillance. And possible police investigation. All weapons are stored in the trunk.” Hanzo’s tone was final and his glare did not allow further argument. McCree ground his teeth to avoid chewing the archer out. Sombra’s smug snickering under the obnoxious yellow paint as she handed her machine gun to him did not help.

“One of these days you’re going to regret that policy.” The cowboy gripped the barrels of the guns and thrust them at Hanzo. McCree dropped himself into the driver’s seat the moment after the archer took the weapons. He started the car even as Hanzo slammed the trunk closed. When the passenger door closed, he finally started moving. “Seriously am I the only one who knows how to drive here?”

Sombra cocked her head to the side and pursed her lips as if thinking. “Legally? Yes. Besides, I’m injured.”

“You are the one with a valid U.S. driver’s license,” Hanzo explained cooly. “We made sure it became a legal international driver’s permit. And now a Japanese driver’s license.”

“You’re older than me. Why don’t you have one?”

“Yes, but I am both the son of a billionaire with a fleet of driver’s at my disposal and I’m Japanese. Very few of us actually own a car. That’s what the transportation system is for.” Jesse saw the smug half grin on the archer's face in the rearview mirror.

Sombra couldn’t leave the conversation alone either. “And I’m only seventeen. Not old enough to legally drive here.”

“I hate both of you right now.” Jesse grumbled. He glanced over to the glowing neon yellow body paint and caught a glimpse of Hanzo’s uniform in the rearview mirror. A moment later he chuckled at the oddity of their little group. “So, we’re just going to be a bunch of weirdos out late for a cosplay party?” What else was the skeleton paint, cowboy getup and ninja suit good for?

“Make it a rave. It’s too late for a cosplay party.” Sombra chimed in.

Ever practical Hanzo added, “And we’re heading home after our friend got hurt.”

“Genji doesn’t know what he’s missing.” Jesse grinned. “But we’re going the long way. Better to get lost in the morning traffic. Think you’ll be alright, Sombra?”

“I’ll manage. Thanks for caring.” The hacker’s smile was sickly sweet.

{}}}}{{{{}

Hanzo was the first out of the car. His night was finally ending. The battle against Blackwatch took extensive effort. All he wanted was a good night’s rest, but that would have to wait until all loose ends were tied up. He would be lucky if he slept before the sun rose. His bow and quiver were donned first. Shortly followed by his sword. The bag of acquired equipment rested beside the handguns.

“So, is that the tech?” McCree’s self satisfied voice hung over the ninja’s shoulder.

“Ooo! You did get it!” Sombra crooned. 

The archer grabbed the bag, allowing one of the wakaishou to handle the return of the handguns. The hacker was cradled in Jesse’s arms in what could only be called bridal style. They frankly looked ridiculous. Sombra’s arms around the cowboy’s neck. And Jesse trying to hold her up while keeping his hat from flying. “Oh, you’re mine tonight.” The gunslinger grinned overconfidently.

“I don’t recall making a wager.” Hanzo stalked passed the pair.

“Don’t you go forgetting our conversation before we left.”

“You have a very loose definition of a bet.” The heir to the Shimada Clan turned towards the castle once they exited the garage. “Don’t you have some place to take her? Like the infirmary?” He asked pointedly.

“No!” Sombra protested. “You did get that jamming device, right? Come on, let me play with their computers. They have this fantastic A.I.”

“Sombra. You are going to the infirmary where the doctor can see to your leg. We will have this set up in the secure computer lab.” Hanzo didn’t bother to look behind him. Their voices were nearly on his back.

“Definitely mine tonight.” Jesse was grinning again. It was wide and obnoxious. Hanzo didn’t need to see the cowboy’s face. He released a small bemused smirk while he knew the two couldn’t see. That man was utterly absurd.

“You will have to wait. I will be preoccupied for the next couple of nights.” Hanzo did pause at the entrance to the castle to turn and study his companions. “Do us all a favor and go to the infirmary. Come tomorrow evening you should back to hacking.” He spoke directly to Sombra though in reality she had no choice in the destination while McCree carried her.

“Told you he’s no fun,” Sombra frowned.

“Let’s go, sweetheart. There are bullets that need to be taken out. And painkillers to be doped up on. I’m honestly surprised you’ve held up so well.” Jesse turned with the attendant to escort him to the infirmary.

Before the pair left Hanzo’s sight, he heard Sombra’s reply. “It’s not the first time I’ve been shot. Not even the worst. Men are such babies with pain. My period is worse than this.”

“Too much information!” Jesse shouted over the cackling hacker. Hanzo pinched the bridge of his nose and continued on to the secured computer room. What did he do to deserve those two? At least they were doing a good job of keeping each other occupied. And should the day come that both manage to get bored the whole castle would be in trouble. A half smile started to grow on his face as he thought about the strange pair from the Americas. Things would have gone much differently if they had not been here.

Hanzo continued on to the secured rooms where they could analyze the computers and devices in safety. Once Sombra entered here they would be unlikely to see her again until she had unraveled every last secret. It was for her satisfaction and their knowledge. He handed the duffle bag full of technology over to the director.

 _”Well, what happened?”_ the voice of his brother was the only announcement of Genji’s presence. Hanzo had not heard the young man’s footsteps. In somethings his younger brother was improving.

“ _Why do you insist on asking questions to things you have no interest in pursuing?”_ He could not stop the tinge of annoyance from entering his voice.

Genji sighed. “ _It’s the only thing you ever do.”_

_“That would be because this is a large organization that needs continuous attention. We are currently being investigated by Overwatch and Talon. In addition to maintaining cordial relations with the Japanese government and law enforcement. Don’t even think about using the fact that you are in college as an excuse for not helping out. Just because I did not partake in excursions while I was in college did not mean I was absent from helping the family. It was during that time that I was learning how to manage the Clan’s businesses. Which is something you should be doing as well.”_ Genji’s uncomfortable and withdrawn face told Hanzo that he had pushed to far with venting. It didn’t change his sentiments, but he probably should have waited until after a few hours of sleep. 

_“All I wanted to know was how did the night go…”_

Hanzo rubbed his forehead trying to ease the building headache. Why did he have to taken on this responsibility alone? _“It was fine, Genji. We’re home. We’re alive. That’s all you need to know.”_

The young Shimada brother ran his hand through the shock of green hair, processing the curt statements. “ _Right…”_

As Genji turned to leave, Hanzo felt a desire to ease the tension between them. And a new urge nagged at his brain. “ _Genji, I need your help.”_

Almost immediately the young green haired ninja brightened up. “ _Brother! I never thought you’d ask.”_ Genji backtracked and dropped his arm on Hanzo’s shoulder. _”Alright, first thing you need to do is get Jesse alone and actually tell him what you’re looking for. I still think you should kiss him, but knowing you, you would put that as too forward a gesture.”_

_“No, Genji. That is not what I would like help with.”_ What was wrong everyone that their first thoughts always turned to the relationships? “ _Meet me in the garage at two this afternoon. And make sure Jesse doesn’t find out. I know you’re not the best with secrets, but try. I’m going to get some sleep. I’ll meet you after lunch.”_

_“Sure! I’ll make sure Sombra and Jesse are busy. And not suspicious. Get some rest Hanzo. You look beat.”_ Genji waved and trotted off down the hall in much better spirits. The older Shimada brother glanced down at his black uniform and noticed the various scrapes and tatters from the encounter with the forces of Blackwatch. It had been a hard battle. They all made it out alive. Some in worse condition than others. He was going to have to visit his cousin Kenji in the hospital for a bullet wound to his stomach. Hiro took shrapnel to his thigh and also warranted a trip to the emergency room. Sombra probably should have gone as well, but she was probably also used to less medical attention than the Clan. Hanzo had not seen the wound himself and hoped that Jesse would have honestly conveyed the severity over the radio. Their family doctor kept a well stocked clinic on the grounds and could handle most minor bullet wounds with ease. Or at least stabilize the worst until they could send the victim to the hospital. 

He took a moment to close his eyes and breathe. 

They were all alive. The same could not be said of the men and women of Blackwatch that had attempted to set up on Shimada’s home turf. He was sure some survived to report back their failure. Just as he was sure they would not repeat their occupation anytime soon. 

}{{{}}}{ 

The desk was strewn with tablets covering the corporations his family controlled. At least two covered the details on the politicians his father contributed to and their next campaign run. Apparently the promises and favors owed to the Shimada name kept their family out of any real conflict with the authorities. Hanzo sat at the desk reading through the reports. These were the things that kept the Clan from falling apart. Of course the mission reports from the ninjas were somehow almost as boring. The assassination jobs and reconnaissance that kept the family well funded felt like reading a bad action story. It made Hanzo wonder if his reports sounded this terrible. 

He put down the earnings report for their weapons manufacturing company. His eyes burned from the pale blue holographic pages glowing in the increasing dark. Dinner had long since been over. Sojiro Shimada had retired early. Hanzo had accompanied him to the hospital that afternoon with Uncle Shinya. It was a tough secret to keep and he was thankful that the foot soldiers assigned to protect his father were discrete. The rest of the family believed these were visits to one of Sojiro’s college friends. 

“Alright, darling. Time’s up.” The slow American drawl interrupted any further thoughts. 

“What do you want?” Hanzo turned to glance at the library entrance where the cowboy leaned against the door jam. 

“I’m here to collect.” 

“Another night.” 

“Nope. It’s gonna be tonight.” Jesse strode into the room with a purpose. The only thing ruining the image were the bright red slippers. The cowboy needed his boots to be taken seriously. “You’ve been postponing the due date for over a week. Sombra’s feeling better and having a blast with whatever toys you got her from Blackwatch. So tonight you’re gonna pay up. Let’s go. We don’t even got to leave the castle. Just come down to the game room. I figure we all could use a break. And a drink.” 

Sighing, Hanzo neatly organized the tablets and stepped away from the desk. McCree was right. He did need a break from this. The archer might be proficient at the task of leadership, but that did not mean he enjoyed it. He had discovered that he much preferred being in the field than behind the desk or in a boardroom. Still he only reluctantly departed from the job. Only when Jesse linked arms and pulled him to the door did Hanzo actually look away from what he had been doing. “What are we doing then?” 

“Just some fun.” The gunslinger shrugged. “I had Genji find us a karaoke machine and some of the biggest hits in the past century.” 

“Karaoke? That’s your idea of a break?” Hanzo couldn’t believe this. He had not done this type of thing since high school. Even then he spent more time watching than participating. 

“Hey, the wager was a night of whatever the winner chose no matter how stupid.” Jesse returned seriously. Then his face broke into that wide confident smile. “Besides. We’re gonna get wasted so who cares about being able to sing well.” 

Hanzo couldn’t decide if the headache was from the paperwork he had just been reading or the sheer audacity of the American. “Should have known massive amounts of alcohol were going to be involved.” 

“Don’t be like that. You’ll have a blast. Just you, me, Sombra and Genji. No one who hasn’t already seen you make a fool of yourself.” 

“And that is supposed to be encouragement?” Hanzo knew his arched eyebrow told McCree exactly how idiotic he thought the cowboy was being right then. 

“Sure is.” Jesse grinned broadly. Teeth gleaming in the dim light. After a moment the smile vanished and the gunslinger regarded the ninja with sincerity. “Look, Hanzo. I know things aren’t going all that well for you right now. And I kinda figured these fun and games aren’t really your style… but I ain’t trying to make you uncomfortable. Just… give you a chance to relax. Get away from all that.” Jesse waved his hand towards the library door and the work behind it. “Come on. You can last a few hours at least. I guarantee you that Sombra and Genji will hog the mics all night if we let ‘em.” 

“I take you at your word. A few hours then.” 

“That’s the spirit.” The massive grin returned and Hanzo found himself along for the ride. As they approached the game room, music blared with some horrible singing. McCree chuckled. “Sounds like Sombra and Genji have started without us.” 

“Tell me you at least procured sake.” 

“Had Genji bring up a couple of bottles. And Sombra went with him to get some whiskey. We’re good.” Jesse opened the door to a very bad rendition of _I got you, Babe._ The cowboy groaned. 

“Isn’t that a song our great grandmother listened to?” Hanzo managed a half smile as he watched the green and pink hair in the duet. 

“Sure is.” Genji laughed. “Just one of the many hits stored in this machine.” He patted the small silver box with the holographic words and images. “What’s better than singing to the oldies.” 

“You’re next, Hanzo!” Sombra cheered. She brought over a large bottle of sake and the microphone. 

The archer took the bottle but shook his head at the microphone. “Make it a group song.” 

“Sure thing.” The hacker spun through the song list and soon the room was filled with a jazzy beat. She started off wailing to a song Hanzo vaguely recognized that had to be from before the Omnic Crisis. Soon his little brother joined her with on the mic. Even Jesse joined in the chorus about dancing on the beach. 

Hanzo joined where he knew the words. The alcohol helped loosen his inhibitions. The night turned into a pleasant blur of music and laughter. Sombra’s soprano rang through all the songs. She was also one of the loudest. Genji was a close second. The two paired up often. Their enjoyment was infectious. What was surprising was the deep crooning from Jesse McCree. The man provided an excellent counterpoint to higher pitches from the other two. After half a bottle of whiskey the cowboy started singing solos. He had no idea that the man could sing. And sing well. 

Soon their drunkenness brought out silliness. Genji and Sombra tried to out do the other. Hanzo sat back and chuckled at their antics. His bottle of sake was dangerously low. Beside him Jesse egged the pair on while demolishing another bottle of whiskey. It amazed him that the cowboy was still awake. They were watching a comic rendition of _Anything You Can Do._ As expected Sombra out preformed with the Anne part. ‘Yes, I can’ echoed in Hanzo’s brain even after the song was over. 

“Your turn, Jesse!” Sombra thrust the microphone into the cowboy’s hands. “Make it a good one.” 

“Good one, huh? Well let’s see what this old jukebox’s got.” The gunslinger started to search and managed to find the song he was looking for. Not one that Hanzo recognized. “Now, we had this group back in Deadlock that had the soundtrack to _Top Gun_ blaring every Friday night out of the diner’s jukebox." 

“What’s _Top Gun_?” Genji poured himself another cup of sake from where he sat at the bar. 

“Some movie about fighter pilots. Never saw the thing. More into Westerns myself. But I can’t forget the music. Actually kinda miss it. Doubt I can do it justice, but here goes.” Jesse started a song with quite the drum and guitar entrance. The words were much smoother. The title scrolling under the lyrics was _Might Wings._ The songs Jesse was exposed to in the States were a different breed. Hanzo stayed and listened, rather captivated by the sense of longing conveyed by the song. “Til I make you take me on your mighty wings. Make you take me on your mighty wings across the sky.” 

With the song complete, Hanzo set down his bottle and stood. “Thank you for tonight. I should be turning in.” 

“But you never picked a song!” Sombra whined, drunk on her beverage of choice. Tequila by the looks of the bottle. 

“Perhaps another time, Sombra. Good night.” Though her protests continued, Hanzo made his way to the door. 

“I’ll go with you.” Jesse called out. The cowboy was not steady on his feet, so Hanzo waited for him in the hall. 

“You didn’t need to leave.” 

Jesse rubbed the scruff of the growing beard awkwardly. It would be gone in the morning once he remembered to shave. The beard actually suited him. “If I hadn’t, they’d be hounding me about why I didn’t walk you out.” 

“Come, I’ll make sure you get to your room. You honestly don’t look like you could walk straight.” Hanzo linked his right arm through Jesse’s left and helped stabilize him. 

{}}}}{{{{} 

It had taken a bit longer than expected, but she had done it. Sombra had finally cracked the encryption on the Blackwatch computers and could survey the intel at her leisure. Much of the future plans were subject to change now Overwatch’s equipment had fallen into enemy hands. But past surveillance was still helpful. A couple reports stood out. 

Sombra dialed up her new friend Hanzo. He was not pleased to receive a call. “What is it?” 

“You know I wouldn’t call if it wasn’t important.” The hacker studied her nails. “But this can’t wait. It has to do with the security of your castle and Talon.” It wouldn’t bother her if she wasn’t currently living in the Shimada Castle and subject to the whims of any invader. 

“I’ll be there in ten minutes.” Hanzo hung up after that. Glancing at the clock in the lower right of her holographic screen said that she had called in the middle of one of his family board meetings. While she waited, Sombra started planning the improved security for the castle. They would need it. 

Hanzo arrived just when he said he would. “What couldn’t wait, Sombra?” As an answer the little Mexican teenager pulled up maps with highlighted areas. Details for each area listed under the hexagon point. The archer studied the images for a few moments. “This is Hanamura. Those were the planned Blackwatch encampments. These others…You’re telling me that Talon is camped out here in Hanamura and we didn’t know?” 

“Well to be fair we only got the information about Blackwatch when they tried to hack into your systems. I still don’t know who the other hacker was, but I’m strongly suspecting Talon right now.” Sombra leaned back and watched the acting head of the Shimada Clan. 

“What is the likelihood of this still being accurate?” 

“Hmm… The information is at least three weeks old. Provided that Talon didn’t know Blackwatch was watching them as well as you, and that they don’t know we have that info now…? I say that the Talon forces have a better chance of increasing.” 

“Increasing?” 

“Well, duh. They’re in these two positions close to the castle. And those three on the outskirts of the village. I may not be a military expert, but that looks like supply dumps to me.” 

“Have you shown this to Jesse yet?” 

"Nope.” Sombra shrugged. “He doesn’t have a phone and you’re the one in charge around here. I did share it with your head of security and have started expanding your network to try and pick up on their communications.” 

“Please tell me you informed the security director of your changes.” 

“Uh… he knows now.” Sombra smiled sweetly and waved at the tall Japanese man in the corner sighing exasperatedly. Hanzo shared the same expression. Why did they put up such a fuss when what she was doing was helping them? “Hey, I got it so we have a four hour warning window should someone try and step foot in your castle." 

“Four hours?” 

“Give or take. Depends on how fast their hovercraft flies. But on foot it is four hours.” 

Hanzo closed his eyes. Sombra saw the annoyance in his expression. Well, that was his problem. She had solved part of his problem after all. “That is better than nothing. Thank you, Sombra.” 

“Just doing my job,” she preened. “Oh! I want you to meet someone.” She spun in her chair back to the glowing purple screens. “So, Overwatch has this A.I. called Athena. A piece of her was left behind in the computer you nabbed from Blackwatch. So I couldn’t tamper with her main programming, but with some edits and some reeducation I created this!” A thin line appeared on the screen. Flat and uninteresting. Hanzo raised an eyebrow expectantly, waiting for the reveal. Sombra growled frustrated. “Say something,” she directed at the flat line. 

A digitally created cough moved the lines showing the voice pattern of her new A.I. interface. “Greetings. My name is Aries.” 

“Why does he sound like a polite Australian?” 

The hacker shrugged. “Athena sounds British to me. Just a consequence?” 

“Very well. Keep us informed of any movement. I’ll see you at dinner.” Hanzo nodded and walked away. 

With a small frown Sombra called, “I thought I’d just work through dinner. Get some take out or something.” There was so much more for her to do now that she had access to the CPU. Perhaps she could even get a line into Overwatch’s mainframe. 

“At dinner, Sombra.” 

“Ugh, fine. It’s not like those old farts take me seriously anyway.” 

“My father does. And I do. That is all that matters.” Hanzo paused in the doorway and sighed. He looked aggrieved. It got Sombra wondering what the heir to the Shimada Clan was discussing with those elders. Could he also dislike their thought processes as much as her? “I’ll see you at dinner, Sombra. Your company would be greatly appreciated.” 

“Alright. See you later, Hanzo.” She waved, purple nails glittering in the computer lights. She still had a few hours to get some more footholds into the intruders lines of communication. But then they had three weeks of preparation. While the Shimadas has been hyper focused on Overwatch and their shadowy gang of attack dogs, Talon has snuck into Hanamura unnoticed. Except that Blackwatch had known about them. Had Blackwatch come to investigate Shimada or the new influx of Talon? Or were they just taking advantage of surveying both at the same time? 

Only one way to find out. 

By the time Security Director Sato tapped her on the shoulder to remind her to get to dinner, Sombra had plenty of information but not real answers. It did look like Talon had taken up residence before Blackwatch. But then Blackwatch had come primarily to take out Shimada. Only a side operation were to watch Talon. And as far as she could find, no one in the Talon camp had even known Blackwatch was there until Shimada kicked them out. Circles within circles. Just how she liked it. 

The formal dinner on the other hand. Not at all what she wanted. Now she had no problem disrupting the old boys’ club, but the food was not her style. Chopsticks, fine. But she was tired of miso and fish. And rice for every meal. She missed her chiles and tortillas. She kept thinking there had to be some sort of Mexican inspired restaurant around here somewhere. But she hadn’t found one yet. Not even the American versions. 

Conversation buzzed around the information that Talon was right at their doorstep. No real planning took place. But it kept the old men talking. The oyabun however sat silently and listened. If Hanzo was right, that man was trying to solve the problem while the others complained about it. 

“Attention,” Aries’s deep bored voice broke the quiet squabbling. “Incoming aircraft. Estimated arrival in ten minutes.” Sombra stared in disbelief at her wrist where the A.I. had residence in a watch. 

“What happened to your four hour window?” Hanzo groused. 

“Hey! I said on foot. And that is clearly not on foot.” Sombra defended, leaping to her feet. All the ninjas around her were calling out for their weapons. She had at least conveyed enough of this situation for them to realize how dire the situation was. 

McCree’s eyes darted across the scene of chaotic preparations. Attendants scrambled for their master’s swords and any other blade or bow they could find. The cowboy was deep in thought. That did not give her a sense of security. “That time frame is too fast for it to be a hovercraft.” 

“So?” Sombra tugged on the cowboy’s leather jacket. He did not budge. “Come on! We don’t have weapons.” The older ninjas formed a battle line in the middle of the massive hall. Other attendants ran around removing any trip hazards while they had time to prepare. Soon they had vanished to their escape routes. The hacker was desperate to join them. 

Sojiro accepted his sword and surveyed his family and the foot soldiers protecting them. More were outside preparing for the assault. “Genji, go with them.” The green haired ninja had just strapped his sword to his back when his father said this. His face was absolute betrayal. Sombra took a moment to realize the oyabun spoke English for their benefit. Everything else was rapid Japanese. 

“Father, no. I can help.” Genji stepped forward, trying to plead his case. Both Sojiro and Hanzo shook their heads. Hanzo was tying the scabbard of his katana to his waist band of whatever the traditional attire was called. 

The oyabun spoke firmly. “No, Genji. You have yet to face actual combat. This is not the field I would wish you to learn. And Sombra is correct. Neither she nor Mr. McCree have weapons. The guns not in use are locked in the armory. They will need your help to get there. Now go.” 

“I’m staying here,” Jesse stood his ground. His voice cold and hat pulled low. “Don’t need a gun to be effective. ‘Sides, dead men won’t need their guns.” His right hand pulled out a switch blade from his jacket pocket. It clicked open under the gunslinger’s confident grin. 

“You know what? You all are insane.” Sombra backed away from the impending fight. “I’ve done my job. You had time to prepare. And I can get there on my own if I have to.” 

“Thank you, Sombra,” Sojiro turned towards her. “This is more time than we would have had otherwise. Genji, go with her.” The green haired ninja was clearly conflicted between obeying his father and trying to stay. Aries kindly informed them that the aircraft had arrived. Gunfire announced the rest. Genji bowed towards his father then darted away with Sombra in tow. She had not had the opportunity to get numbers, but from the sound of the firepower it was more than simple raid should have. 


	10. Flight of the Sparrow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title likely suggests what's coming next

**Chapter Ten: Flight of the Sparrow**

The ribbed knotting of the hilt to his katana bit into Hanzo’s palm reassuringly. His blade had never once let him down. The ninja glanced to his right where McCree stood, switchblade in his right hand. It seemed small compared to his revolver. And to the weapons they were about to face. “You keep a four inch long blade in your pocket?”

The cowboy shrugged wide, hands toss out as if he hadn’t a care in the world. “You won’t let me keep my gun, so I got creative.” The intense look in the man’s eyes did not falter. McCree was ready for battle no matter what came his way. With the blade he looked more like a biker ready for a bar fight than a cowboy ready for a duel. Which made sense as not every bar fight was against a man that needed killing.

“Very well.” Hanzo turned his attention back towards the door where their wakaishou were firing into an advancing guard. In this battle there would be many who did not walk away. These men and Omnics may not be blood relatives but they were part of the Clan. Good friends. Some were even younger distant cousins just getting started in the business. All were highly skilled individuals. Trained in various styles of guns, blades, and hand-to-hand combat. They stood a good chance. 

At least until a massive black man burst through their line. Golden tinted metal fist leading the way. Akande Ogundimu. Hanzo had not expect to see this man any time soon. He thought he had made it clear that the Shimada Clan had no interest in dealing with Talon unless it was for business. A collection of masked, uniformed soldiers mixed with a ragtag band of African mercenaries. The group of foot soldiers holding the door were down. Though Hanzo knew others loyal to the family had been called, they would not arrive until after those present became embroiled in the fight.

Beside him the gunslinger tensed, crouching low. Hanzo’s eyes did not stray from the intruder, but he heard the low growl of frustration from his partner. The last encounter had left plenty of loose ends. Akande too stilled on the arched bridge leading to the grand hall. He faced eight highly skilled ninjas. The Talon representative paused more for dramatic effect than concern. “Mr. Sojiro Shimada. Finally the Shimada I wanted to meet.”

“You must be Akande Ogundimu.” Sojiro stood tall and regal. Confident and strong. Hanzo wondered how much of that was true. “We have looked into your reputation. I cannot say that I was very impressed.”

To that the intruder laughed full throatily, head tossed back. He was overconfident and certain no one would touch him. “Then our opinions on suitable reputations differ greatly. I have come to offer you a position with our organization. The territory you have now will pale in comparison to what Talon can offer.”

The oyabun of the Shimada Clan straightened himself even further in indignation. “You invade my home. Disturb my meal. And dare to invite me to join those terrorists?” Sojiro’s voice dropped to a cold growl, “I decline.” Eight swords sprung from their scabbards. The hiss of steel against tempered wood filled the hall in a chorus of impending death.

“Have it your way.” Akande shrugged as if bored. The gauntlet arm pulled back. Hanzo saw steam of the gears building up power. Whatever this weapon was, it would be devastating. In the moment it took Hanzo to realize who the target was, Akande launched himself forward. The massive fist met steel. Not just of Sojiro Shimada, but also his brother Shinya. The brothers were shoved back by the force of the punch but they held their ground. 

Hanzo didn’t have time to marvel at their teamwork. He had his own battle to fight. Bullets rained into their line. Almost as one they deflected the incoming hail of gunfire. At least the cowboy was intelligent enough to duck for cover until the assailants realized their bullets were returning to them. Two fell from their own ammunition before the others ceased fire. The soldiers and mercenaries charged forward. Clubs and machetes against swords. The only problem was they had the numbers.

His blade slid smoothly along the flat of the machete. Hanzo spun swiftly. The razor sharp edge of his sword cut through the African’s belly. Gunfire started again. He couldn’t tell if it was their men or Talon’s. The body fell and Hanzo moved to the next. A barrel of a machine gun blocked his strike. He stared into the eyes of a faceless mask. A Talon soldier. The source of the trouble. The ninja drew back for another strike. Hacking away at the gun would not be good for the blade. With his next slice, Hanzo released shurikens into attacker’s leg. It was enough of a distraction for the one handed hack to dig into the bend in the Talon armor. Though the blow was not as powerful as it could have been, it slice away enough of the neck to knock the man out of the fight. Hanzo suspected the man would die if not treated, but he had other worries.

The fights from outside were spilling into the hall. A quick glance showed showed his uncles embroiled in their own duels. A few of his cousins who had initially gone to engage the enemy beyond the gates had retreated to the hall. The gunfire forced them to seek cover. Hanzo searched the field for his next opponent and ended up watching the biker slash a Talon soldier’s abdomen where the armor was weakest. With the soldier distracted McCree sent an elbow to the man’s head then dug the knife between the joints of the neck armor. Perhaps the gunslinger was not as horrible at hand to hand combat as believed. 

Still they were being pressed within their own home. Anger at the intrusion boiled inside. Hanzo launched himself at the next Talon soldier to come into sword’s reach. His blade created a deep groove in the man’s armor. It caught briefly. Enough time for the butt of the rifle to slam into his gut. Sharp agony ripped through Hanzo’s body. Stealing his concentration. He saw the wide black base of the rifle seconds before it slapped into his jaw. The momentum enabled him to roll further out of striking rage. Embarrassment was only eclipsed by rage. He would not be struck down. Not within the walls of his home.

Hanzo stood. His blade ready. A dangerous glare met the faceless mask with the red visor. Neither would back down. With determination welling within, Hanzo charged ahead. Sword swept back for the rapid uppercut that brought the ninja behind the soldier. He jammed the hilt into the man’s lower back with enough force to rupture the spleen. A graceful slice followed, showering the tatami mats with red droplets. The gore building up here would take weeks to remove. Hanzo suspected their recovery would take longer. 

“Remind me to stay off your bad side,” McCree’s slow drawl interrupted the flow of battle.

The heir to the Shimada Clan turned and scowled at the gunslinger. “Why haven’t you picked up a gun yet.” The man was far more effective with a revolver than a knife. Damp streaks on the man’s black leather revealed he had successes. Hanzo’s eyes narrowed at a new rip in the cowboy’s jacket. His partner had also had a few close calls. There was no time to assess the injury now.

“All these here are rifles.” McCree tilted his hat back to survey the field. “Me and rifles don’t get along.”

“Then find a pistol and clear out this mess.” Hanzo bit out. The biker from Deadlock had the capacity to turn the tide and yet he was being picky about what gun he used. The growl deep in his throat couldn’t convey the entirety of his frustration. The ninja moved on to the next soldier in what felt like a never ending line.

“That ain’t up to ya!” Jesse yelled over the clashing metal.

Hanzo refocused on his opponent. He could not afford to be distracted by the idiot cowboy and his peculiarities. A shock of green hair caught his attention despite his best efforts. In that moment the butt of a rifle veered towards his face. Hanzo changed his strike into a desperate block. The palm of his left hand pressing against the blade to stop the force. What was Genji doing here? After father expressly told him to go. No matter what his younger brother thought his skills were, he had never tested them against an opponent actively trying to kill him. Nor had he ever have to kill another human being. This could only go badly.

He needed to end this encounter and join up with Genji. 

This Talon soldier seemed ready for him. The next strike met the rifle’s barrel. This wasn’t getting him anywhere. Hanzo dropped low and spun a kick into the man’s ankles. The surprise was enough to give him an advantage. Yet when he stood to make the killing blow, his eyes caught a soldier aiming a gun to the back of Genji’s head. His younger brother was already on the defensive against a massive African wielding a machete. 

_”Genji! Get down!”_ Hanzo ignored his own fight and rushed towards his brother, shurikens in hand. He threw them into the soldier’s neck the moment Genji dropped. The Talon soldier collapsed, but that still left the African. The green haired ninja saw the blow coming. He froze. That’s all Hanzo could describe it as. Coming to terms with a killing strike for the first time was enough to cause anyone to freeze. Hanzo was not going to remember his first time. Instead he forced a burst of speed and rammed the tip of his katana into the unarmored back of the assailant. The sudden stop vibrated painfully in his hands. 

It served to stop the machete from biting into Genji’s neck but it also lodged his sword deep into the opponent. He jerked back but the blade did not budge. The African was attempting to gather his wits despite the critical wound. Hanzo would have none of that. He braced his foot on the small of the man’s back and pushed the body away. Even if Genji was not supposed to be here, Hanzo would not have anyone take advantage of a moment’s weakness. He put all his rage into the next strike. In one swift motion the katana sliced through muscle and bone, severing the man’s head from his shoulders. Arcs of blood pulsed from the body as it crumpled. Lifeless. 

The red puddle expanded across the mats, soaking into the reeds. His brother’s eyes were fixated on the head with eyes wide open in surprise. It was as if this was the first time he had seen a man be killed. “ _Genji!,”_ Hanzo snapped, capturing his brother’s attention. Splashes of blood covered the front of the young man’s formerly white button down. His brother’s eyes betrayed the horror at the scene. What had he expected? This is what they had trained for their entire lives. _“What are you doing here! Father sent you with Sombra.”_

 _“I…. I…”_ Genji stuttered. Their pocket of silence brief as the roar of gunfire and striking metal rushed back. _“I came to help.”_

 _”This is not helping! Either get somewhere where I don’t have to worry about you, or start seriously fighting. This isn’t the dojo. These people will kill you. And if you can’t kill them then you have sentenced yourself to death. You should have listened to father. This is not the battlefield to learn.”_ Hanzo turned his back to Genji and focused on the other fights. The battle between Akande and his father was his main concern. Uncle Shinya tried to circle around but the massive African caught him with the metal fist and threw him into the wall behind Sojiro. Hanzo winced. That battle was not going well. Even two against one they were struggling. His father was not in the best condition to be fighting anyway and yet he was managing to hold his own. But for how long. _”Get out of here, Genji.”_ Hanzo spoke sternly. _”You are not ready.”_

_”I am!”_

_”No, you’re not. These men are not particularly talented and yet you are struggling against them. Nor have you ever killed anyone. You learned these skills but spent all your time playing around with video games. No matter what you may call yourself, you are not a ninja. Now go. It’s the only way you will survive.”_ Hanzo did not wait to find out if his brother obeyed. He would have to come to the realization himself or die in the process. Neither was an outcome Hanzo wished for, but both were possibilities. Genji was just not cut out for battle.

A deafening electric roar filled the cavernous hall. _”The Dragon Conquers All!”_ Dark blue sinuous shapes curled out from the oyabun’s sword arm. They coalesced into the massive dragon guardian guided by the blade. Either desperation or a chance to press the advantage lead Sojiro to push his body to the absolute limit and call on his protector. The dragon powered katana clashed with the metal gauntlet as Akande was forced to retreat. 

_”The Dragon is victorious!”_ Shinya’s mighty cry added to the thunder. Bright yellow erupted from his left arm and snaked around his back before forming into the monstrous dragon. Electricity filled the air, stealing the breath from the unprepared. Shinya launched himself and the dragon at Akande’s back, ripping a long gash through black skin. The African growled in pain but continued.

“Well I’ll be…” Where had McCree come from? Hanzo glanced to his left where the gunslinger used a shiny silver pistol to tip the brim of his Stetson up as if to see clearly. “The Shimada dragons do exist.” He was slack jawed and eyes filled with wonder. Letting the Deadlock Rebels learn of the family guardians had not been part of the plan, but desperation changed things. The cowboy winced. Hanzo’s eyes darted back to the fight. Sojiro lay at the base of the calligraphy scroll, dragon gone.

This had gone on long enough. “Get back to work,” he snarled at the gunslinger. Sword battles were taxing on the body. The ninjas would not last much longer at this pace. Soon it wouldn’t take much for the Talon riflemen to pick them off one by one.

“What do you think I was doing!” McCree’s words barely broke through Hanzo’s concentration.

The eldest Shimada son had only called on his dragon a few times. And those were in training as he learned how to use it. Now he would see how that training paid off. Uncle Shinya tried to block a strike from that massive fist. Metal on steel empowered by a guardian halted the blow but not the continued force. 

_”The Dragon consumes my enemies!”_ The warm tingle of the awakening dragon started to burn his left arm. The crackle of lightning and the roar of thunder were the only sounds his ears recognized. His sky blue companion fully formed along his katana. The beautiful scaly hide and the magnificent mane. The Dragon of the South Wind was powerful and graceful. With its help he sprang from the soaked reed mats in a splash of red. Hanzo’s blade and dragon guardian bit deep into the golden metal of Akande’s gauntlet. “Why are you here?” Hanzo growled. The dragon and sword held the man still, burying deeper into the gauntlet.

“There are things we needed to see for ourselves.”

“What things!” 

Rapid gunfire interrupted. Akande ripped his giant metal fist from blocking the sword to stopping a bullet. Hanzo had not bothered to count how many gunshots rang throughout the hall. Corpses dropped around them and the Shimada ninjas and wakaishou could only stare in disbelief as their enemies were no more. Hanzo took a potentially hazardous turn to find McCree. The gunslinger stood in the far corner of the room, blood dribbling from his nose. He held his head as if wounded but other than the nosebleed Hanzo could not see any signs of injury. Then the cowboy fell back, gun falling from his hand. The ninja’s heart tightened, fearful as to what might have caused this.

“I have seen what I needed.” Akande announced. “Move out!” The few remaining intruders retreated out the main doors. There was only a halfhearted attempt to stop them. Most were still shocked by what they had seen. 

The oyabun of the Shimada Clan lay defeated at the base of his own hall. Many stared down at enemies struck down by a bullet from the cowboy. It was almost too much to take in. Hanzo let Talon go. This mess was his to clean up. They would retaliate against the dangerous criminal organization after they recuperate. _”Uncle Shinya? How is he?”_ The first order of business was to see to his father.

 _”Alive. But he will need to go to the hospital.”_ Shinya knelt beside his brother, checking his wounds. Hanzo swallowed and dismissed his guardian dragon. He did not feel prepared for this.

 _”Call the authorities. Tell them we were attacked by an unknown criminal agency. Do not, I repeat, do not reveal the details of the dragons or of McCree’s skillful shots. That is something the Elders must discuss.”_ Though he really didn’t need to explain about the secrecy of the dragons, in light of the chaos surrounding their use reenforcement was always a good idea. _”And do not let it get back to Deadlock or Hopkins that we know about McCree.”_ At least his voice was strong and steady. His mind was anything but. The last thing he needed was for his men to discuss this in front of idle ears. Murmurs of agreement and a few ‘yes, oyabun’ filled the silence of the hall.

Now was the time to care for the wounded and collect the dead. With the excitement over the first aid staff and the family doctor emerged to stabilize those they could. The damage was great but it did not seem as though they had lost too many of the family. Hanzo cleaned his blade with a handkerchief kept in his sleeve. He would clean the katana properly later tonight. For now it was good enough to sheath. He closed his eyes and took a breath trying to calm his inner turmoil. His father was injured. His friend’s condition was unknown. And he had not seen Genji since sending him away. Nor had he seen Sombra in any of this.

Pink hair beside the fallen gunslinger answered that last question. “How is he?”

“Alive. Unconscious. What happened?” Sombra turned her brown eyes from the American to him.

“I am not entirely sure, but I believe he used that special technique of his. He did manage to clear the room of Talon operatives. Hopefully he will be able to explain when he recovers.” Green hair caught the corner of his eye. “Genji, take him to the infirmary. I would rather he not be here when the authorities arrive. Go with him as well, Sombra. If the two of you are here it will cause too many questions.” His younger brother nodded and flagged down a medic to cart off the cowboy. McCree lay motionless on the wooden planking. A dried trickle of blood ran from his nose to chin.

 _”Hanzo-sama, the emergency services are entering now. Sora-san estimated the injuries to be twenty to thirty. Including the enemy. No one has taken the time to count the dead. Our own seem to be seventeen.”_ an attendant approached bearing this news and damp towels. The non combatants should not be this accustomed to violence.

With a heavy sigh, Hanzo accepted the news. The towel removed most of the drying blood from his skin. He may not look presentable, but he had just survived a battle. The police were not top dignitaries that needed him to look his best. A glance told him that the American and Mexican were gone. One less thing to worry about. _”Thank you. Tell the officers I will meet them in the gazebo.”_ It was going to be another night when he did not see his bed until sunrise. Once the authorities were given the story, he would have to face the Council of Elders. Those able to attend. Uncle Shinya would travel with his brother to the hospital. Great Uncle Akira did not look like he made it from this angle. And there was no telling which of the others would survive their visit to the hospital. Of course there would be a report in the morning.

The great hall was filled with frantic activity to save those still alive. Hanzo strode through the cracked wooden doors where Akande had smashed through them. The front gates must also look a mess. The garden had it share of violence. Brush strokes of red dotted the stone walls and dormant grass. Corpses were draped with dark body bags, waiting for enough people to help contain them. It was not a scene Hanzo ever wanted to see again on the family property.

}{{{}}}{

The infirmary had its own quiet hum of activity. One hall with two rows of beds. Most were curtained off and Hanzo had greeted those willing to take visitors. Or awake enough to take visitors. The wounded here were the least injured from their encounter with Talon. They seemed to appreciate the heir’s outreach of concern, though all knew the young yakuza boss in training was here for a different man. It should have bothered Hanzo more that his generation of ninjas and foot soldiers continued to speculate and encourage a relationship with the gunslinger.

The Shimada Council of Elders had other opinions. He had just sat through three hours of them explaining how dangerous the gunslinger was. They demanded further action to ensure that the Deadlock Rebel not have access to guns and return to the restrictions imposed when the American first arrived. Hanzo politely reminded them that McCree had saved their lives in that cascade of death. That they now knew of this technique and could take other measures to avoid becoming victims. Most did not want to listen. And short of imprisoning the cowboy, which would have enraged Hopkins, there was nothing else that could be done.

Said cowboy was out cold on a cot. He had been cleaned up and sedated. According to Doctor Mori, McCree had lashed out violently against the nurses and aids when he first woke. The medical staff all agreed that the chemical sedation was better than actual restraints. They were afraid the gunslinger would hurt himself worse should he wake up confused and tied to the bed. When Hanzo asked why McCree would behave this way, Doctor Mori explained that what McCree had done had over activated his brain and the cowboy appeared to be reacting in a dreamlike state. The family doctor assured Hanzo that sleep would allow the brain to recover. Until then they just had to make sure Jesse did not hurt himself or others.

This insight made Hanzo curious about what Jesse’s technique did to make it possible to kill a score of men in an instant. He would ask later. For now he sat next to the cot and waited. At least here he would not be interrupted needlessly as he turned the pages of his book.

“Hola,” a soft female voice broke through his thoughts. Unsurprisingly when he looked up, Sombra was peeking around the curtain. Hanzo closed the book and motioned her in. “I thought you would be sitting with your father.”

“Uncle Shinya said it would be best if someone stayed here.” Hanzo stood and gestured for her to take the chair. “Father’s condition is critical but improving. I have the feeling that Uncle Shinya just doesn’t want the image of father in the hospital bed to linger.”

“Can you blame him?”

“No. I suppose not.” Hanzo sighed and snagged a stool.

Sombra watched the sleeping cowboy for a few moments. She seemed a little lonely without someone to bother or a computer to hack. “Where’s Genji?”

“Where he usually ends up when things get rough.” The older Shimada brother shrugged. The green haired ninja was not one for conflict. “He ran off to hide in the arcade. Drowning his emotional distress into video games. Right after we returned from visiting father.”

“Unsurprising. You know, I never thought I’d see honest to god paperback books. What are you reading?”

Hanzo indulged her need for conversation as the hacker did not strike him as someone who tolerated inactivity well. “Shakespeare’s _Measure for Measure_. You would probably enjoy it. Everyone is meddling in everyone else’s affairs.” He handed her the book to flip through.

“Never took you as one to enjoy romantic comedies,” Sombra chuckled.

“This is a classic in literature.”

“And a romantic comedy. Face it, Hanzo, you are a hopeless romantic.” There was no use arguing when the little Mexican pulled out her own brand of confident grins. 

He let her skim through the book and turned his attention to the cowboy. The black Stetson rested on the beside table, waiting for its owner to wake. They all were. That’s why they were here. When McCree suddenly bolted upright, panting as if he had run a marathon, it surprised both of them. Hanzo stood abruptly, the stool sliding across the smooth tiles on its caster wheels. “Jesse?” The murderous glare directed at him was beyond anything he had ever seen on the cowboy’s face before. Hanzo creased his brow in concern. Something was not right. Under the furrowed brow and heated gaze was a distance. 

Hanzo didn’t have much time to figure it out as McCree flew from the bed faster than a striking rattlesnake. Strong as steel fists yanked on the collar of Hanzo’s kimono, bringing him face to face with a large snarling American. This was an enraged bear, intent on destroying everything that opposed him. “Never make me use an automatic like that again!”

“Jesse! What’s gotten into you!” Sombra pulled at the scrub top, trying futilely to disrupt the cowboy’s focus.

“This don’t involve you, Stan! Back off!” McCree released Hanzo’s collar with his left only to shove Sombra back violently. The woman landed against the flimsy metal chair. The ninja did not have time to see if the hacker was alright as McCree returned his focus to whoever he believed Hanzo was. If Hanzo had not been sure about the cowboy’s state of mind before, those words and actions confirmed it. “If you wanna kill me, boss, then next time do it proper!”

Whatever Hopkins had done to enrage McCree to this point was a worthy story. Including whatever had called the gunslinger off this path of vengeance. Hanzo however stoically took the verbal rampage then let his hands lash out, his viselike fingers digging into the pressure points on McCree’s right elbow and wrist. He did not enjoy watching the cowboy grimace and cry out in pain as he sank to his knees. Off to the side the staff had ripped back the curtain and stood needles in hand. Hanzo shook his head towards them. “No drugs right now.” The nurses backed away, but remained close should he need extra hands to subdue the hallucinating gunslinger. “Sombra?”

“Fine.” The hacker groaned. “Maybe a bruise or two. Nothing serious.”

“Good.” Hanzo kept his hold on the cowboy’s arm but eased off the pressure points. “Jesse?” No answer. McCree’s breath came ragged as he tried to focus through the pain. Slowly they evened out and the gunslinger hung his head. All Hanzo could see was the unkempt brown hair. “Jesse, are you with us?”

A heavy sigh issued from the man. “I don’t know.” Jesse scrubbed his face with his left hand, raking his fingers through his hair. Now that the moment had passed Hanzo felt small tremors through the arm he held captive. Hanzo released his hold and stepped away. Hopefully giving the cowboy some space would let him recover his mental faculties. The ninja motioned for Sombra to join him and the staff.

“At least that statement makes sense.” They could only watch as McCree struggled to reclaim the pieces of his memories.

“I need to get out of here,” McCree stood, never once looking up. He snatched his hat and the leather coat underneath. Other than that the cowboy only wore the thin scrubs the infirmary staff had changed him into. Hanzo and Sombra followed the barefoot cowboy through the halls and out of the building. At least Hanzo had the presence of mind to grab some blankets and a pair of the American’s oversized slippers.

In the fading light they watched Jesse light a cigarette the moment he reached the outside air. He trudged through the garden straight for the furtherest edge of the cliff. By the time he reached the thick wooden railing the first cigarette was barely a stub. Jesse snuffed it, tossed it over the side and lit another. If it hadn’t been for the unusual scene in the infirmary, Hanzo would have been thoroughly confused watching the cowboy in blue scrubs, black leather jacket and hat sit on the cold paving stones and let his bare feet dangle over the ledge. Instead he passed Sombra a blanket and they both joined him. One on each side keeping silent company.

After the fourth cigarette disappeared into the forest below the castle, Jesse dropped his head against the railing with a groan. “I need some aspirin and alcohol.”

“Jesse, I think you should give us some sort of explanation first.” Hanzo replied cooly. He would not judge his friend, but he needed to understand what happened so they could avoid it in the future.

“Like who’s Stan and what’s wrong with automatic weapons?” Sombra speared the hallucination as the first order of business. McCree winced. Those were painful memories to bring up. Still they waited.

“Back when I first realized that could see the kill shots if I studied a scene hard enough, boss thought it would be useful to see how far I could go. I was rather keen on the idea too. Aim came easy to me and I wanted to test the extent. Problem was anytime I tried to go past a six shooter I blacked out. Apparently the brain can only handle so much sensory overload. Then we ran into a messy situation. Boss slapped an automatic in my hand and told me to get to work. Woke up the next day feeling strung out and nearly dead. Guess I should be glad they didn’t leave me stranded.” Jesse shrugged as if this tale was not a life changing event.

Hanzo let the story linger in the air as he considered what had happened the night of the Talon invasion in a new light. “Then why did you do the same against those terrorists?” If he had known this was the consequence of using anything other than a revolver, then Hanzo would never have let Jesse use that semi-automatic pistol.

“It was a messy situation and I made a choice.” Again the shrug that indicated McCree didn’t care that this was a major, life threatening decision. A fifth cigarette weaseled its way out of Jesse’s pocket. During their wait the sun vanished below the horizon, leaving only dim lanterns. The glow of the lighter highlighted the gunslinger’s face. The deep set eyes remained shadowed, gazing out to the distant horizon. Too much history to cover.

Sombra looked like she was going to pester him some more, but Hanzo shook his head. “Jesse, let’s go inside,” she said instead.

“Go ahead. I’m staying out a bit longer.” 

Hanzo pulled out his phone and made a few texts. They could stay, but he was getting cold. It was still winter and the blankets weren’t going to be enough in a couple of hours. Though the cowboy said nothing, Hanzo remembered the bitterly cold days where Jesse tugged his jacket closer. Shoving the pair of slippers into McCree’s lap earned them a quiet chuckle. At least the man had the presence of mind to put them on. Soon a couple of attendants set up powerful space heaters and a large thermos of hot chocolate. That finally got the cowboy to turn away from the cliff.

“Ooh, chillies!” Sombra cooed after her first sip. “How did you know?” Jesse grinned and filled his mug with the thick steaming chocolate.

“I have a Mexican and a Southwest American staying here. You think I wouldn’t learn of your love for chillies?” Hanzo only took a small amount of the drink. It was delightfully different, but perhaps not his favorite. He preferred spice in actual meals. Cocooned in their blankets and surrounded by heaters, the three of them could enjoy the clear night sky and waxing moon without trouble.

Two large mugs of hot chocolate finally seemed to mellow out the cowboy. Jesse didn’t say a word as he placed the cup on the paving stones and leaned down to settle his head in the lap of a surprised archer. “That was better than aspirin and alcohol,” the cowboy said, dropping his Stetson over his face. Soon gentle slow rises and falls in Jesse’s chest indicated that the man had fallen asleep. Head resting on Hanzo’s thighs. What was he supposed to do with this? Wide eyes searched Sombra for help but her quiet snickers told him that he was stuck.

“Deal with it.” She hid her grin behind a fresh much of hot chocolate. “He’s yours.” Hanzo sighed. He could at least let the man get some sleep before dragging him back inside. The ninja passed his cup to Sombra for another helping of spicy Mexican style hot chocolate. It did the job of keeping them warm.

}{{{}}}{

“Something has to be done. He’s graduating this year and he still hasn’t done anything to benefit the family business.”

“All he’s done is waste his time and the Clan’s resources on frivolous activities. That must be corrected.”

Hanzo sat at the head of the conference table, his father’s seat, and listened to his uncles complain about Genji yet again. Things they were reluctant to bring up in the presence of his father. With Sojiro in the hospital, the heir to the Shimada Clan was forced to fully take on the responsibilities of leadership. Uncle Shinya divided his time between assisting Hanzo and visiting his brother. But in this, his uncle was painfully quiet. Despite sitting to his right, Shinya said nothing in Genji’s defense, nor mediated the discussion criticizing his younger nephew. Both of them knew Sojiro would not have allowed this discussion to even take place. But they also knew how vehemently the Council disliked the leniency given to Genji.

During a brief private moment between uncle and nephew, Shinya explained that allowing the Elders a chance to vent might reduce their frustrations. Hanzo worried it would only allow their discontent to grow. He wondered if his uncle also wanted Genji to take part in the family business or be cut off from it entirely. That seemed to be the only shared sentiment between the Elders. By his own uncles and older cousins. 

Closing his eyes, Hanzo focused on keeping his annoyance in check. This was his brother. It was not his job to discipline his brother.

“Hanzo, even you have to agree that his behavior during the battle with Talon was less than satisfactory.” His distant cousin, Gaku, drew him into the discussion.

“Aside from abandoning the mission given to him by the oyabun, Genji’s behavior was no different than many ninjas encountering their first life and death struggle.” The young yakuza boss in training pinned his cold stare on his cousin. “I did not see you on the battlefield, Gaku.” It was not the most pragmatic statement, but it did shut down the IT businessman. Gaku hadn’t seen battle in quite some time.

“But he did disobey the oyabun. That deserves a response.” Old cousin Yoshiaki who grew up under Hanzo’s grandfather. The man was like an older brother to Sojiro. At least from the stories Hanzo’s father told. He was officially in charge of training the new generation of ninjas even though Shinya took on the physical tasks.

All eyes turned towards Hanzo. He was acting leader until his father returned. Letting this infraction slide would not bode well for discipline within the ranks of the wakaishou. Or even the ninjas. His cousins. “The matter will be dealt with,” Hanzo stated firmly with a conviction he did not feel. He knew the type of discipline Yoshiaki was referring to. As this was his brother, son of the oyabun, he could handle it privately. All that they needed to know was that Genji understood the significance of his actions and would comply with future orders. There would be no room for outright disobedience within the Clan. Not even from his own brother.

Beside him, Hanzo heard the soft resigned sigh of Uncle Shinya. Perhaps at a time when he had faced similar reprimands as a young man. Hanzo at least knew that none of them were going to like the consequences. Yet he would face them. The hard decisions were his now. And he had to accept the fallout.

}{{{}}}{

Tiny pink buds appeared as if overnight. The predawn light made the dew drops glisten on the branches of the cherry trees. Even with the chill clinging to the morning air, it felt as though spring had finally arrived. As Hanzo stepped out into the gardens, he saw the bright red slippers already at the door. The cowboy had already ventured out into the cold morning. No doubt to smoke before breakfast.

Hanzo strolled along the veranda, enjoying the peacefulness of the yard before the tourists flocked for the tours. By this afternoon the trees would begin to show their true colors. A pastel haze would fill the air and a world of fantasy would begin. There were legends about the cherry blossoms in Hanamura. Like how seeing the first bud open would bring one luck in the coming year. Some swore up and down that proposing under a fully blossomed tree would grant a long and prosperous marriage. Hanzo would let them keep their superstitions. He simply enjoyed the beauty nature provided.

A steady click of stone caught his attention. Below the veranda the cowboy leaned against the well, tossing pebbles at the stone wall. It was behavior he had not seen in the man since allowing him access to the gun range and the gym. Hanzo watched silently, wondering if McCree would notice him. Jesse was quite perceptive, but this morning he seemed greatly preoccupied. With a disgusted spit over the railing, he removed something from his ear and shoved it deep into his jeans’s front pocket. The motion puzzled Hanzo for a few seconds until it dawned on him. Of course Jesse McCree would have someway to contact the Deadlock Rebels and perhaps Tony Hopkins directly without relaying on Shimada computers. Phones could be traced. So what did he carry that none of the wakaishou watching him and none of the surveillance networks had noticed?

Backing away from the railing silently, Hanzo made his way down the stairs to join Jesse at the well. He would let Jesse think this communication was his secret for a bit longer. It was just another reminder that though he found the man intriguing, there were still great rifts between them. “Good morning, Jesse,” Hanzo announced his presence. 

The cowboy startled, straightening immediately. Cigarette clinched in his teeth and hands deep in the deep pockets of the black leather jacket. The skull and wings of the Deadlock Rebel belt buckle still on prominent display. “Morning, Hanzo.”

“You’re up early.” Hanzo tried not to let it sound accusatory.

Jesse shrugged and settled back to lean on the well. He returned to tossing bits of stone at the wall. “Been hard to sleep knowing that Akande guy has a giant metal arm and has a liking for dropping in unexpectedly.”

“It’s been nearly two months since then.”

“So. Two months of planning. And I still haven’t got a clean shot on him.”

“You’re telling me that you can’t sleep because you are frustrated that you can’t kill the man?” Hanzo wondered if he had understood McCree correctly. Of all the things to loose sleep over. The gunslinger was kept up at missing a shot.

“I don’t miss.”

“Jesse, everyone misses a mark at some point.”

“No. You don’t get it.” Jesse straightened again. This time his wild brown eyes caught Hanzo’s. “When I get into that space. Where I see the shot. When I pull the trigger, I don’t miss. I might not kill the guy, but I don’t miss. So explain to me how I get him in my sights, twice now, and he walks away unscathed?”

“We will find out. For now it is not worth concerning yourself over. I’m sure breakfast is ready by now.”

“Naw.” The cowboy removed his hat to run his hand through the thick brown hair. He was peculiarly distracted and preoccupied this morning. Hanzo was going to have to figure out what kind of communication the biker had. “I already had some coffee. I’m going for a walk. I’m sure Zed will be thrilled.” He stuffed his hands back into the jacket pockets and strolled off. 

Hanzo made a decision to join him. He tucked his hands within the sleeves of his dark blue overcoat and quickened his pace to match McCree’s. “No sense in disturbing him. I’ll join you.”

The mild surprise flickering across Jesse’s face caused the smug smirk to find its way across Hanzo’s face. The cowboy eased his own features into the relaxed smile of acceptance. It was early enough where there were few crowds to maneuver around. They hadn’t really had a moment together since the night Jesse nearly broke down. It felt good to share the morning with no plans and just another person beside him. No one trying to force his opinion one way or the next.

Hanzo stopped at a stall setting up to get a red bean filled pancake as breakfast. The piping hot pastry warmed his hands. A soft snort of laughter escaped before he could contain it as Jesse wrinkled his nose at the strange taste. Not quite sweet but not savory either. Though the treat seemed to offend the American’s tastebuds, Jesse finished it without complaint. “If you don’t like it, just say so.”

“Wasting food is stupid.” Jesse shrugged and meandered on. Hanzo paused. His brow creased slightly as he tried to make sense of the response. On the surface it was very straightforward, but it was not the type of statement one usually made offhandedly. Hanzo had read every report that could be found on Jesse McCree, but that statement indicated those reports missed a great deal. The archer wanted to pry deeper. They just weren’t at the stage in whatever their relationship was. And the gunslinger was back to the melancholy that initiated the walk.

Hanzo imagined that at times like this Jesse had already mounted his bike and ridden off aimlessly. Trying to escape his problems by out running them. But he didn’t have a bike. He had to ask permission to use the one in the garage. A man as proud as McCree would hate to sink to that level. Offering to go for a ride would suggest that Hanzo was calling attention to the cowboy’s state of mind. It really wasn’t much different when Hanzo sought some sort of refuge against the demands on his time.

The Clan Elders were still asking when he would reprimand his brother. Hanzo couldn’t keep doing nothing. It was part of why he was out here, walking the town with Jesse. To avoid listening to them. To avoid having to make a decision. To avoid being caught in his distress.

Well, Hanzo did not have a motorcycle to escape his thoughts. He had something else. The archer snaked his right arm through the bend in Jesse’s left elbow and tugged him in a different direction. Away from the town. Away from the castle.

“Where are we going?”

“Somewhere that will not be crowded once people finally wake up.” Hanzo answered. He led Jesse towards the base of the mountain top. The castle and town had been built at the highest most place where the land could support structures. They stood at the edge of the town, facing the gracefully curved gate that marked the entrance to the mountain. The trees were still stripped of their leaves. Only the tiniest traces of the coming spring’s foliage peaked out of the winter woods. Wild flowering cherry trees stretched towards the sun. First to receive its light, last to feel its warmth. The thin dirt path curled through the underbrush and twigs. The sparse evergreens provided hiding spots for the adventurous birds trying to welcome a new day.

“Here?”

“Why not? You wanted to go for a walk. People are here for the cherry blossoms and the town will be crawling with tourist in a couple of hours. They seldom venture this far in the spring. It is more popular in the fall when the colors start to change. At the top there is a small shrine.” Hanzo waited for Jesse to make up his mind. Surely the allure of solitude appealed to him.

“Why not.” Jesse shrugged. Hanzo led the way, only having to pick up his hakami a few times to avoid lingering puddles or a steeper rise in the trail. The cowboy lumbered behind him. The cowboy boots were not the best for hiking, but he did not slow much. Jesse paused more to study a part of the forest that caught his attention. The buds of a wild plum tree willing to brave a sudden frost. The rustle of a bush as some animal scurried for safety. Every time Hanzo caught the cowboy with a half grin at seeing something new, the archer had to turn away for fear his own grin would give himself away. 

He wasn’t about to tell Jesse that this trail was one of his private retreats. Even if it was open to the public. Few people ever came up this far. An occasional priest or villager needing to get away. Where Genji disappeared into the loud arcade, Hanzo sought the silence above the problems below. In lieu of the motorcycle escape, the archer could at least share this with his partner. 

Hanzo settled on a stone outcropping overlooking a similar scene to that of the cliff in the castle gardens. Yet here he could watch Mt. Fuji, the city and the castle in one wide panorama. The whole of Hanamura spread below them. People seemed barely a centimeter tall. When the cherry trees finally shared their majesty, it would be a blanket of pale pink petals. The trees looked promising this year.

“You’re right. It’s a great view.” Jesse settled next to him. Close enough to let their thighs touch. The cowboy slipped his left hand into Hanzo’s right and curled their fingers together. In the privacy of being above the world, Hanzo willed the anxiety in his heart to settle and let his head rest on Jesse’s massive shoulder. It was strange and new and he couldn’t believe he was actually doing this. It was also warm and solid. Was this what everyone craved with their overeagerness in seeking physical contact? It was comforting.

}{{{}}}{

Hanzo gripped the sword at his waist. The katana handed down to him through countless generations. Never once had it failed him. The knotting along the hilt intricate and sturdy. The blade heavy as a mountain and light as a feather. It was his duty and his honor to bear this responsibility. Nothing would change that. It is what he had been born to. Trained for. Groomed to be.

At least that is what he had been told his whole life. What he believed mattered little in light of his function as leader of the Shimada Clan. With his father still recovering, everything was left to him. Hanzo knew he could handle the task. That was never in doubt. What he did not know was if he could handle his brother. They all had a place in the family and Genji was not living up to expectations. The entire council placed the expectation of reigning in the younger scion of Sojiro Shimada on Hanzo himself. 

All his life he had tried to keep his brother out of trouble. Away from strife. But also within the family’s strict guidelines of behavior. Genji had never wanted any of that. He was flighty. Constantly seeking grand new experiences, running from the realities of his birthright. Everyone knew the bright enthusiastic young man would never amount to anything worth the Clan’s time and resources. Had Genji been born to any other family, he might have been able to live out his days in peace. Instead there were expectations. Obligations. His father’s Sparrow would have to come to terms with what the Shimada Clan was.

Leaning against the empty wall in the stairwell leading up to the ramparts, Hanzo listened to the chatter and bursts of laughter from the three individuals sharing the evening beside the shrine’s bell. The night was beautiful and calm. A full moon brightened the sky, casting a gentle glow on the soft pink petals of the cherry blossoms. Viewing nature at its finest, his friends shared a moment Hanzo could not join.

The castle grounds were also practically empty. By his own order. The family had already gone on vacation. Genji had chosen to stay with Sombra and Jesse this year. The wakaishou were limited to the bare minimum to give security to the Clan’s computers and valuables. Hanzo had also made the decision that as the four of them were staying on castle grounds, they would also assist in the security. He bent his father’s long standing rule against visible weapons on the grounds by allowing Genji and himself to wear their katana and wakizashi. He also allowed McCree and Sombra their guns for protection. With the invasion of Talon, it was only right he allow them weapons until the full complement of security returned. Jesse had been beside himself on learning he could keep his revolver on hand for the week.

It was as Hanzo had planned. Few to no witnesses to what he must do.

He had to cement his resolve. He had promised his uncles that he alone would see to Genji understanding the need to obey orders and comply with the Clan’s mission.

The elder son of the Shimada Clan straightened and strode from the stairwell into the night. Sitting on the railing with total disregard for the sanctity of the shrine was the cowboy. Black Stetson and leather jacket blended in with the shadows. Somehow the light caught the brass belt buckle and the skull flashed as McCree moved. He lounged against a pillar, boot propped up on the railing to allow his revolver to rest on his knee as he cleaned the piece. Sombra and Genji shared the steps. A pot of tea behind them. Hanzo knew a stronger drink was her choice, but in light of the threat hovering above the castle all of them abstained.

“Hanzo! Join us!” Genji waved him over. His weapons were neatly propped against the railing, within easy reach. Green hair glowing from the lantern behind him.

“Hanzo, you made it!” Sombra grinned, her pink hair and nails shining brightly. These bits of color blending in with the atmosphere around them. It was ashamed to ruin the peace.

 _”Genji, we need to talk.”_ The acting oyabun stood firm. The statement sent the temperature dropping several degrees in the already chilly night air. Silence was his response. He hadn’t expected anything else. Hanzo focused on his brother. Still he saw the concern flit across the hacker’s face as she took in the two Shimada brothers. In the corner of his vision the shadowy cowboy pulled his hat low over his face and tucked the revolver into its holster. McCree felt the change in the air.

As the American stood, boots gently echoing in the shrine, Genji’s brow creased. The young ninja seemed oblivious to the tensing atmosphere. “Where are you going?”

“This is Clan business, Genji.” McCree swallowed, the brim of the Stetson hiding all other emotions. “Boss told me to stay out of Clan business. Let’s go, Sombra.” His voice was low and careful. The slow drawl more pronounced than ever.

“But…” Either the petite hacker was truly clueless about the tension or she wanted to mediate. Being the overly curious person she was, the brightly colored woman would want to stay and watch.

“Time to go, Sombra.” The cowboy’s long legs brought him even with archer within seconds. The pause was almost imperceptible, but Hanzo's quick glance to the side caught the dark brown eyes staring back at him. Not enough of the man’s face was visible to get a clear understanding of his emotions. Yet the shadows and quick steps made Hanzo aware of the cowboy’s displeasure. Jesse was right about one thing. This was Clan business. The gunslinger would just have to accept the end results.

The teenager was easier to read. She had not yet had the years to learn how to properly conceal her emotions. Or perhaps Sombra simply had no trouble letting everyone know exactly what she thought. She frowned at him as she walked by. Hanzo would not let that sway him from his task.

 _”What is wrong, brother?”_ Genji stood. His hands hung loosely at his sides. Clearly he did not believe anything would happen tonight. Perhaps nothing would.

_”Do you not understand the significance of your actions?”_

Genji reached behind him and took hold of his katana. Concern deepening the foreign creases in his brother’s brow. _”In what?”_

Hanzo’s left hand tightened its grip on the hilt of his sword. Was his brother that clueless? _”You disobeyed father’s direct orders.”_

_”I came to help!”_

_”Your job was to escort Sombra to retrieve the guns. Not to get involved with in a battle that was beyond your ability.”_

_”This is my home too, Hanzo. I have every right to fight for it as well. I am a warrior.”_

_”No, Genji, you are not. A warrior does not hesitate to kill his enemy. A warrior does not flinch at the prospect of death. You are a boy who plays at being a ninja.”_ Hanzo closed his eyes and breathed in the chilled night air. His stance widened. His footing secure against the wooden planks. Geta had been changed to his training boots. _”If you cannot cut your opponent, if you cannot accept being cut, then you have no business on the battlefield.”_ When Hanzo opened his eyes, his younger brother had his sword ready to draw. His own stance prepared. Finally, Genji understood. _”More than that, if you cannot obey simple instructions then you have no place within this organization.”_

Genji glanced at the bell beside them. The twin dragons swirling around each other. Either in a harmonious dance or an endless battle. Hanzo could never decide which. _”I do not want to fight you, brother.”_ The green haired ninja relaxed in his prepared stance. _”I do not want to do what this family is known for.”_ If only it were that simple. Hanzo wanted to forgive his brother. Wanted to let things continue to be as they were.

 _”We were not given that choice!”_ With a smooth practiced motion, Hanzo drew his katana and rushed towards his brother. Steel met steel as Genji blocked with his own blade. The wooden scabbard clattered uselessly to the planking. Young eyes widen in confusion, tinted with fear. Hanzo glared. Anger at how his brother was still so innocent in regards to the source of their wealth boiled deep inside him. _”This is the family we were born into. You have a place in it, same as I.”_

Years of having to do as he was told. Learning how to wield the sword, the bow, the shurikens. How to kill a man. Years of watching his brother run off to the arcade, listening to him tell stories of his friends. The lingering resentment of not being able to follow. Being told he knew better. Having a part time job in one of the frontline corporations so he could learn the business. And knowing that his little brother had never once wielded his weapons beyond the dojo.

Hanzo pressed his blade down. He felt Genji’s arms tremble against the weight. They had never fought with this intensity. _”This is what our family does, Genji. This is what ninjas do,”_ he growled, katana ripping back for the next strike. When the screech of steel ended, Hanzo spun razor edge leading the way. He sliced into Genji’s left thigh. Tan khaki pants darkened with blood. Genji watched in horror as Hanzo reset for the next pass. Pain filled in the rest as the younger Shimada brother tried to gain his bearings. 

They clashed again. Hanzo’s tried and tested skills were no match for the boy who played hero. Another strike cut deep into Genji’s left shoulder. The next to the young man’s right knee. Genji desperately tried to defend against the lightning fast blade. The shrine became a dismal battlefield. As the young ninja dodged another attack, he slammed his back into the bell, releasing the dark, deep gong. Any other night it might have reverberated through the trees. Instead its song was interrupted.

Genji launched himself from the bell, neatly avoiding the incoming slice to his abdomen. The elder Shimada’s blade scored a deep groove across the dragon seal. _”Hanzo! Don’t do this!”_

 _”You cannot strike. You can barely defend. You would be killed the moment you step foot in a true battle. You do not deserve your guardian dragon.”_ The acting oyabun pressed his advantage. His sword swung down with the force of a killing blow.

 _”Taste the dragon’s blade!”_ Genji shouted. Deep green light flashed from his right arm and swarmed his katana. Their blades met in a bright clarion. Hanzo’s arms shuttered when Ryu ichimoji blocked his strike. Where their blades connected a piece of his sword was missing. The dragon had damaged his weapon.

Immediately Hanzo withdrew. Scowl deeply etched into his face. _”The Dragon consumes my enemies!”_ The air surrounding them crackled. A sky blue lightning storm rose from his left arm and encased his blade. With an electric roar Hanzo sliced through his brother’s defenses. Whirling through well known forms, Hanzo focused his attacks on the right arm where the green tail of the dragon rooted itself. Crippling blows to cut the tendons from bone. To render the limb useless. 

His opponent fell before him. The green dragon disappearing into the night. The sword useless next to its owner. Hanzo towered over the green haired ninja as the victor, his sword poised just above Genji’s throat. The fangs of his dragon a hairs breath from the pale skin. Bleached from terror and blood loss. The eyes of his brother stared up at him in panic. 

What had he done?

Spots of red streaked across Genji’s face. Thick rivulets oozed through his shirt. His right arm torn and cast aside yet still attached to the body. He had done this. This was not some stranger. Not some villain invading the Clan’s grounds. Not a target for a price. Hanzo had done this to his own brother. He closed his eyes to the scene. It couldn’t be true.

He tossed his sword away. The blue glowing dragon disappeared. He was not worthy of it now. Turning his back on Genji, Hanzo struggled to find the words. He may never pick up the pieces from this. Anything he may have become, may have had… It was all meaningless now.

 _”Hanzo.”_ Slow creaks in the shrine planking. Wet fabric ripping. A groan of pain. Genji was trying to stand.

_”Go!”_

_”Brother!”_

_”Leave, Genji. If this is what I do when the Elders tell me to enforce the rules of the Clan, then you must leave. Either become the ninja you were supposed to be, or die. They want you dead, Genji! Our own uncles and cousins!”_ Hanzo’s fist clenched at his side. A slick substance trickled through his fingers. He did not want to think about who’s blood it was.

_”It doesn’t have to be this way!”_

_”Leave, Genji! Leave or they will kill you.”_ Hanzo could not turn around. He could not face his brother. How was he going to face his father after this? He would never be able to if he had been the one to murder his own sibling.

Metal scrapped the wooden floors. Staggered steps left the veranda and crushed the gravel. There was a small pause where Hanzo imagined Genji trying to find words even more difficult than the ones Hanzo voiced. Then nothing. The crunch of the gravel faded and his younger brother was no longer part of his life.

Hanzo dropped to his knees. What had he done? New sounds broke the silence. Heavy boots thudded across the veranda. Slow steady advancing footsteps. A softer swifter gait was almost drowned by the first. The heir to the Shimada Clan refused to open his eyes. He could not face these two. Not after what he had just done.

“Make sure he gets somewhere safe,” McCree’s low voice even sounded dead to Hanzo’s ears. Not even disbelief at the scene in the shrine.

“Right.” Sombra held the horror Hanzo was expecting. Those soft footsteps trotted through the shrine and quickly through the stone garden.

A thick weight settled on his shoulders. The smell of warm leather and smoke prevailed over Hanzo’s attempt to distance himself from all senses. The cowboy’s jacket. The one Hanzo had slipped into the man’s duffle bag that first mission out of the castle. The one that had seen more than its fair share of cuts and repairs. Hanzo squeezed his eyes tighter, refusing to think about the anger that must be inside the eye of the cowboy. Genji had been his friend. His first and for awhile his only friend in Hanamura. Hanzo could not forget that.

Then arms wrapped around him, pulling him into McCree’s chest. Hanzo couldn’t fight it any longer. He relented. The muscular arms of the cowboy enveloped him, sheltering him from the world beyond. Hanzo had enough demons terrorizing his soul right then. That he had one man willing to hold him up let the archer release everything. A blood soaked hand clenched into a tight fist as he pulled himself closer. Hot tears leaked through his eyes as he burried his head into the cowboy’s chest. He couldn’t face the world right then. Not when he was this weak. The arms tightened around him. Silently encouraging him to seek shelter.

Hanzo did not know how long he sat there wrapped in Jesse’s jacket and embraced by his strong arms. The blood on his hands had dried, not that he could let go of Jesse’s shirt right then anyway. It was the soft tread of Sombra that stirred his consciousness. That and Jesse’s left arm left Hanzo’s shoulder, leaving it cold. “He’s safe,” Sombra’s voice was close.

“Good. We can worry about it later.” Jesse’s voice did not falter. It was a rock in the middle of a storm. Unmoving. Shoes and cloth scrapped against the planking as Sombra sat down beside them. Hanzo felt the girl’s breath as she sighed also tucked up against Jesse’s chest. Together they clung to this solid emotional support, leaning against the damaged bronze bell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To quote Mercy: It had to be done.
> 
> I've been wanting to share this scene for quite some time. I hope it came out well and you all enjoyed it.


	11. Scattered Pieces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finding Forgiveness isn't easy. Nor is learning about family agendas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Passes everyone soothing heart balm, a box of tissues, and hot chocolate.

**Chapter Eleven: Scattered Pieces**

The isolation Hanzo endured this time was not of his doing. He was still deeply embroiled in the daily workings of the Clan, not to mention the rebuilding of the castle gates. This left little time to seek relief from stress. The two he once had thought to call friends ignored him. For the first couple of weeks Sombra left the room when he entered. She never said anything. She didn’t have to. Then Jesse spent more time smoking on the far edges of the castle property or in the shooting range. Neither were their same chatty selves at dinner.

They all felt the absence of Genji. But what was he supposed to do about it? Hanzo had been the one to cast him out. Had been the one to almost kill him. That weighed heavy on his conscious. 

At least the council of Elders appeared satisfied. They never again brought up Genji’s lack of productivity. In subtle ways they supported Hanzo’s actions. They weren’t quite as argumentative when he set forth a proposal. Nor did they force their own agendas as aggressively as Hanzo had seen in the past. He was also certain this behavior was not out of grief for loosing the younger son of Sojiro Shimada. 

Every morning Hanzo paused beside his sword. The katana was laid to rest in its stand, naked steel exposed to the world. Chip missing from the blade. He had placed it there once he had gathered the courage to face the scene of the crime and collect the weapon. With it and the sheath settled in the stand, Hanzo vowed never to touch it again. It had been the instrument of his betrayal of his family. If it hadn’t been for the knowledge that Jesse and Sombra waited just beyond sight, Hanzo wasn’t sure he could have stopped. If it hadn’t been for those two to include him in frivolous activities with his own brother, Hanzo wasn’t sure he could have recognized the utter wrongness of the act. 

Their own uncles and older cousins, men Hanzo had respected, sanctioned the harsh discipline against family. Hanzo wanted to be the leader worthy of the Clan. He trusted their judgements as those with experience. Believed their words when they accused Genji of ineptitude and disobedience. He still did not know how it came to the point where he was willing to destroy his own brother for their approval. 

This morning Hanzo dared to touch the blade that still held flecks of dried blood. The scars from that fight would never heal from his soul. He was not sure how he was supposed to continue on without his brother. As obnoxious as Genji was he still part of the family. Without being able to listen to the outrageous stories or corral his aberrant behavior, Hanzo felt lost. His fingers trailed along the blade. The cool metal reminding him how dangerous the world was. How he must survive. How survival without his brother or friends was hollow. He had caused this rift to form between them and only he could mend it. Only he did not know how.

Grabbing a disk containing all the information he could gather on Director Jiang of Lucheng Interstellar, Hanzo stepped out of his room with a mission. With the premier most space agency under their influence, the Shimada Clan would have access to the advanced technology needed to keep ahead of the growing Talon organization. He decided to take this to the reigning queen of blackmail. In what he hoped was a peace offering.

Sombra holed up in the updated computer lab for hours on end. Her corner had grown massive during her stay with the Clan. Hanzo didn’t have to see her old set up to know this was a major upgrade and that she would refuse to abandon any of it should the combined commitment fail. When he entered the room the hum of equipment bombarded his senses, despite the silence among the cyber warriors. Each one was glued to his screen. Hanzo wasn’t aware of anything pressing that required such intense scrutiny. But without a doubt the atmosphere hinged on the current mood of the Mexican hacker. 

Steeling his courage to talk to the young woman took some doing. This would be the first time since the incident that Hanzo attempted to hold a conversation with her. Genji and her had been close friends. And now that was currently gone. “Sombra?”

“Hmm?” The pink mohawk never turned from her holographic screens. The purple glow thickening as the hacker’s flingers flew across the images.

He placed the disk next to her keyboard. “I was wondering if you could take a look at this and assist with the blackmail effort?”

“Uh-huh…” That did not sound like a committal to the task. Nor did the small frown on her pink lips give him much hope. Still she did not look at him at all during the exchange. The images and lettering floating before her was more interesting.

Trying again, Hanzo attempted to gain her attention. “Sombra, your assistance would be—“

The petite hacker abruptly stood, cutting him off. She snapped her screens shut. “You know what? No.” Sombra was firm and cold. Her hands quickly packed up her equipment. “I’ll continue doing what I came here to do but nothing more. You want to know why? Because, screw you, Hanzo.” Sombra painfully prodded his chest while glaring at him. Clearly not yet at peace with Genji’s disappearance. As she stormed out of the room the other hackers glanced over briefly but their eyes quickly returned to their screens. No one wanted to be caught staring at the acting oyabun who had just been told off by a visitor.

Hanzo’s plans to provide Sombra with a distraction backfired. He was no closer to mending the rift between them. With a heavy sigh, the young yakuza boss in training departed from the computer lab. There was nothing more he could do here.

Following the briefings regarding the shell companies holding the family’s funds, Hanzo finally took time to visit the archery range. Usually the act of drawing the bow and releasing the arrow removed the growing tension in his soul. Today there was no relief. He was still in the same conundrum as he had been for the past couple of weeks. No joy in watching the cherry blossoms descend. No comfort that spring was once again upon them. The minor victories on other fronts held no satisfaction. His world was empty. And the one gnawing fact keeping him deep in his depression was that this was all his fault. Still he could not think of another path he could have taken. There was no other result possible. The Elders would have found a way to remove Genji from the Clan regardless of Hanzo’s choices. 

At least Sombra said Genji was safe. Hanzo should be able to rest easy with that knowledge. Instead he was constantly wondering where his brother was and when the Clan would find him.

His daze was broken when he head the gate click and smoke waft towards him. When he turned, McCree sat on the railing dividing the bleachers from the field. This was also the first real meeting between them since the incident. Just like with Sombra, Hanzo had not felt comfortable trying to justify his actions when he still did not understand them. Now the gunslinger was here. Lit cigarette dangling between his lips, black cowboy hat pulled low to shade his eyes, arms crossed over his chest. He had gone back to rolling up his sleeves and wearing the tattered Deadlock Rebel vest. The man didn’t even give his customary greeting.

“Come here to rub it in?” Hanzo demanded defensively as he returned to his targets. The arrow remained undrawn and his bow loose in his grip. He was not in the right state of mind to continue practice.

“Not exactly,” Jesse drawled. Dark notes colored his voice. These put the acting yakuza boss on edge. “Was hoping for more of an explanation really.”

“What do you want from me? An apology?” Hanzo snapped, frustration clouding his judgement.

“I don’t know, Hanzo. You tell me.” McCree bit back. Boots scuffed the dirt until the archer and cowboy faced off. Hanzo was stuck glaring up into the angry and grief ridden eyes of his partner. Of course the man would still be hurting too. But what was he supposed to say?

“You wouldn’t understand.”

“Of course I don’t understand. Because someone ain’t explaining it to me.” McCree rolled his eyes at the comment. “I ain’t stupid, Hanzo. Ain’t soft neither. After what you did—!” Jesse paused in his tirade to draw a long breath through his cigarette. Smoke filtered out with words as he began again. Calmer but no less deadly. “After what happened you really think we can just let it go so easily?”

“I was enforcing Clan laws. Which you rightly had no business interfering with.”

“He is your brother!”

“He was my brother. The family disowned him.” Hanzo frowned as he relayed this information. Judging by Jesse’s darkening look, the gunslinger did not approve.

“Don’t change nothing. He’s still your brother. Now I can look past a lot of things, but this time I think Sombra has the right of it. Screw you,” McCree snarled, leaving with a disgusted spit into the dirt at Hanzo’s feet. Suddenly Hanzo’s already crumbling world shattered around him. There was no remaining pillar of support for him. He was lost among men who discarded family for not wanting to participate in their illegal activities and the few life lines he had beyond the castle wanted nothing to do with him. If it weren’t for the thought that leaving would deprive his father of both sons, Hanzo believed that abandoning this place now would at least give him time to collect the pieces of his life.

}{{{}}}{

“They tell me Genji left following the invasion,” Sojiro commented softly in the near silence of the hospital room. Hanzo sat on the edge of the bed while his father curled up in the recliner. Each of them held a warm cup of tea in their hands, staring into the lightly green tinted water as if it held the answers. The ‘They’ the oyabun spoke of were his brother and the remaining council. Hanzo had been surprised that they had not explained how or why Genji left. Of course Hanzo had not given them much more information either. 

The older Shimada son nodded. “The battle was beyond his capabilities and desires. When confronted with the reality of the job asked of him, he chose to leave.”

“I see,” The leader of the Clan spoke into his cup. He sipped from the white porcelain with the blue painted dragon, lost in thought. “I had hoped not to see this day.”

“Father?” Hanzo’s head jerked upright with these words. He could not have heard them correctly.

Sojiro sighed and set his tea on the bedside table. “Genji was never meant to be part of the organization in the same fashion as you. He never showed the same dedication or even the same capabilities as you did. I accepted from an early age that Genji would never make a proper ninja. But I hung on to the hope. He was quite skillful in the dojo. But always more hesitant with his strikes. If he had shown talent in the non violent areas of the organization there might not have been a problem. I had hoped that you would be there for his first mission. Guide him where I could not.” Hanzo leaned forward as his father spoke. The honesty terrified him. His father had known about Genji’s weakness and had done nothing to change his path. The thin tether holding his heart together started to fray. 

The oyabun continued on. “This was not something I wished for you to confront. And yet I had hoped to be gone from this world before Genji left our family. I am not a completely blind and deaf fool to what our uncles and cousins say about him. I just held on to my little boy. Perhaps longer than I should have. He is just so much like your mother… I did not want to ruin that in him.” Sojiro poured himself a fresh cup of tea. 

“Father… why? Why would you allow things to come to this?” Hanzo asked in disbelief. “Not even Uncle Shinya defended him to the council. None of us did…” Hanzo realized as he thought back to that fateful day. He had been so eager to prove himself worthy that he failed to consider his brother’s feelings in the matter.

“I never intended it. I simply did not realize how things would come to pass.” Sojiro did not look up from his teacup. “Genji would have left by his own choice when faced with the edicts of the Council or would have been forced out. I never wanted to see that day. I knew my time was coming. I am honestly surprised to still be here. Between battling this disease and the rouge elements increasing their antagonism, I had thought to be gone before now.”

Twisting his cup nervously in his hands, Hanzo ventured the dreaded question. “Did you know that the council had disowned Genji? Said that if he ever stepped foot in Hanamura he would forfeit his life?” Those statements still bothered Hanzo. He knew he would never be able to enforce them. Not now. Not after seeing his brother shredded by Hanzo’s own sword. 

Silence returned to the room. Sojiro’s frown deepened. “I am sorry, Hanzo. I cannot change their edicts. But he will always be my son. Your brother. No matter what the council says. I did tell you that they would attempt to control things. And they hold a great amount of power. We will not be able to argue against this successfully. Wherever Genji is, I hope he will find a better life than what awaited him here.”

“Father…” Hanzo placed his own white cup next to the teapot. The deep blue lines of the dragon distracted him. A billowy mane, scaly hide, sharp talons and fangs. The artist had rendered the sinuous, majestic Dragon of the South Wind beautifully. Down to the fiery eyes and angry snarl. The spirit of the dragon judged him. And in his heart, Hanzo knew he had failed. He kept his position and authority within the clan, but he had divided his family. “I hope you return home soon.” He stood to leave. And hesitated. Should he tell the complete story? Or would that further destroy their tenuous relationship. “I will return later this week to visit if you have not yet been discharged.”

The elder Shimada son left. He had the courage to face an army of soldiers but he could not speak of that night with any confidence. At this point he doubted any one would understand him. Much less forgive him.

{}}}}{{{{}

“No. I don’t want to listen to him, Jesse!” Sombra paced the game room. It was the one place Hanzo never ventured. The two of them could shelter there when avoiding the heir to the Shimada Clan. “He doesn’t care. I mean look at him! Going about his business as if nothing happened.”

Jesse’s arms dropped from where he was about to toss darts. “I get where you’re coming from, Sombra, but he was the one who made the decisions. Both of them. To attack Genji and to send him away. I can’t imagine what he is feeling.” McCree had gone in search of the why to the whole debacle. It had not ended well. Still Hanzo was acting as the leader for this uptight organization so the cowboy could give some leeway. 

“But you agreed. He’s being an absolute jerk about the whole thing.”

With a shrug, McCree returned to the dart board. “I agreed that he needs to explain things. I’ll take any answer so long as I get one.” When he had gone to confront Hanzo earlier in the week, Jesse had expected the same aloof character that dealt with the organization. Instead he had found a young man wound so tightly he seemed ready to flip out. And not one ounce of compassion in those bones. It felt so foreign with everything he had learned about Hanzo over the past year.

“Ugh..” Sombra threw herself onto the couch, staring up at the ceiling. “What am I supposed to do now? I miss him.”

“I know. It don’t feel like the same place anymore without him. But he’s safe. That’s what matters.”

“Why aren’t you mad at him?”

Jesse shrugged. “Why would I be mad at him?” So yeah, at one point he was. But he still didn’t understand Hanzo the way he wanted to. He was more angry with the archer’s lack of transparency in the whole matter. The fact that Hanzo brushed it off as if it was nothing did bother McCree. But if the cowboy stayed angry then he would never get any answers. 

“Alright, Jesse. I know you’re head over heels in love with the guy, but seriously… He tried to murder his own brother. Then kicked him out with no medical aid what so ever. You should be mad.”

Running a hand through his hair, McCree puzzled over the emotions involved. He really could use a drink right about now. “Sombra, how many things did Los Muertos get involved in that you weren’t too keen on?”

“Uh… I usually was the one getting them involved. Why else are we even here?” The hacker sat up properly on the couch as Jesse came to join her. 

“Got me there. And did Boss Sosa ever have guys who refused to get involved?”

“You’re saying Jefe offed our own?”

Jesse shrugged again. “Boss Hopkins don’t much like being upstaged. Seen him off plenty of upstarts and idiots. And those guys were my brothers. We stuck together. But if they decided they didn’t like what boss was telling them, they were out. So blood relations aside, can’t say that what Hanzo did was wrong. We just don’t like it because Genji was our friend. That don’t change much about Hanzo. And he made the decisions. Hell he could have finished the job. But he didn’t. I just want to hear from him why.”

“I’ll say it again. You guys are insane.”

“Not arguing with you, Sombra. But you can’t be mad at someone doing what the gang leaders order. But I am with you in thinking there’s got to be more than we know about. You don’t just off someone because of a hesitation in battle. That’s what I want to know.”

The hacker groaned, “Without Genji, I can’t raid the liquor cabinets any more.”

“There’s that. And he was just getting good at pool.”

“Considering he already out did you in darts you just wanted to be better at something.”

“Hey. He’s a ninja. I’m never going to out do him when it comes to throwing. At least with pool I got some advantage.”

Sombra stood abruptly. “I got an idea. Let’s get Zed to treat us to some ramen. Genji would do something like that.”

“Or spend the afternoon in the arcade. But since you’re still banned from that place, ramen sounds perfect.” Jesse grinned and grabbed his hat from the bar. Ramen sounded like a perfect way to remember Genji. One day they would meet again. He had to believe that Sombra did make sure the irrepressible green haired ninja was somewhere safe.

“Hanzo!” Sombra said startled. Craning his neck, Jesse saw the archer in his traditional style pleated pants and kimono top. The same light blue as when the cowboy first laid eyes on him. Only this time he was not the self assured, overconfident heir. It looked like Sombra had caught him pacing the hall, trying to make the decision to enter. “What do you want?” The hacker dropped her voice into annoyance. Jesse could see Hanzo closing off to them immediately. 

Grabbing the little Mexican teenager by the shoulders, Jesse dragged her away from the doorway. “What she means is are you coming in? Or are you going to come with us to get some ramen.” He knew his offer was chilly. Despite what he had told Sombra, Jesse couldn’t completely forgive the man until he had an explanation. 

“I..” Hanzo straightened indignantly as if responding would hurt his pride. This would not be pretty if the heir continued on this path. The man was not known for giving apologies. And Jesse was not expecting one now. But for the yakuza boss in training to visit them in the game room, meant he wanted to express something important. Because the two of them were certainly not going out of their way to talk to him.

Jesse closed his eyes as he took a breath. A long smoke would help. “Look, get in here and talk. Standing at the doorway ain’t gonna solve anything.” With a firm grip on Sombra’s shoulder, he steered her back towards the couch. The soft click of wood on tile said Hanzo joined them. The gunslinger released the pink haired hacker and faced the heir to the Shimada Clan. He waited expectantly. He would let Hanzo say whatever it was he came to say then go from there. No sense judging a man without knowing all the facts.

Yet Hanzo looked different. Jesse wanted to call it uncertainty, but this was Hanzo. Uptight, arrogant, heir to the wealthiest family in Japan. What was going on here? His hands were tucked into the wide sleeves of his kimono and his head tilted away from them. Studying the dartboard rather than the people he had come to see. Sombra looked like she was going to interrupt the thickening silence. Patience wasn’t her strongest virtue. Jesse nudged her in the ribs to get her attention. His response was an overdramatic eye roll and her plopping back on to the couch.

“About recent events…” Hanzo started slowly. “There is nothing that will change what happened. I realize that outcome affected you. Perhaps… not to the full extent at the time.” The archer glanced to the floor. The faintest indication that the young man was biting the inside of his lower lip. Jesse had never seen Hanzo look so nervous. Jesse could wait. He would have to. Everything about Hanzo demanded that things were done on his terms or not at all. Including apologies. “With Genji gone… Knowing that my uncles wanted this… Finding out my father…” 

The young yakuza boss in training closed his eyes and took a steadying breath. The same he took when preparing for a difficult shot. He stood straighter. And when he opened those dark brown, beautifully piercing eyes, Hanzo sought for something deep inside Jesse’s soul. Jesse didn’t know what it was, much less how to give it. Yet he wanted to. Whatever it was.

“I thought leaving this place was the only alternative to try and reconcile what I had done. But I could not abandon my father. Not when he is still recovering. But I also cannot continue down the path my uncles have set for me. In this Genji has always had greater strength. Something I did not understand until now. Perhaps in this you would assist me in learning…” Again, the not quite an apology but also a request for understanding. “And maybe one day forgive me for my actions.” Simply judging from how Hanzo’s gaze turned away with the last statement showed how hard making these appeals to Jesse and Sombra’s better nature truly was.

McCree rubbed the back of his neck as he studied the shorter man before him. Hanzo had come here, into Genji’s safe haven, to seek forgiveness. That could not have been easy. The hacker and the cowboy had gone out of their way to not make it easy. When the archer failed to give them this little speech immediately following the incident, the two of them had avoided Hanzo. It might not be everything Jesse was looking for in an apology, but it was a start.

“The important thing is Genji’s safe.” Jesse finally broke the silence.

“But that doesn’t mean we forgive you.” Sombra bounced up from the couch and stalked over to the acting oyabun. “I don’t care what Clan business you were enforcing. What laws or traditions you were following. Even I know that trying to kill your own flesh and blood is wrong. And you owe us big if you want to make up for what you did.” Sombra jabbed her finger into the elder Shimada son’s chest to make her point. “And I know just the thing.” The hacker grinned, opening her holographic screens. “I’m using your account, Hanzo.”

“Sombra!” The archer groaned at the thought that the little Mexican had this knowledge.

“What? I’ve been good in not using it. I’ve had access to it since I got here.” The hacker turned her flashy white smile framed in pink at them before returning to her screens.

Jesse was left to stand awkwardly in front of Hanzo, the last of the difficult statements lingering in the air. “We were going to drag Zed to the ramen shop, but since you’re here you should come. A remembrance of Genji.”

“And you’re sure he is safe?”

“If Sombra says he’s safe, then I believe her.”

“Where is he?” Hanzo looked on the edge of pleading and feigning disinterest.

Sombra called from the barstool she had parked herself. “You don’t get to know. No,” she interrupted the insistent protest from the archer. “Neither you nor the cowboy get to know. Genji is safe and that’s all there is to it.”

Turning his gaze to the cowboy, Hanzo asked, “Why won’t you tell Jesse?” 

“Because he is too likely to tell you. One of the side effects of love. You tell the other everything.” The hacker rolled her eyes. Jesse could only shrug. She wasn’t completely wrong. He probably would tell Hanzo if he had the answers. Sombra did understand people’s motivations. “Oh, and Hanzo, you should be getting a confirmation soon.” As soon as she finished speaking the chimes of bells rang from the inner chest pocket of Hanzo’s kimono.

“What have you gone and done?” Hanzo sighed, pulling the phone out of the pocket. He flicked the email into a hologram for them all to see. “Dear Mr. Shimada. We are delighted you have chosen to attend the _Technology of the Future World’s Fair_ hosted by Utopaea, India.” Hanzo scrolled down to see links to the tickets and information about personal security and limits on weapons. Including a link to Utopaea’s local authorities rules and regulations. “Sombra, this event has been sold out for two years. How did you get tickets?”

“More precisely, how did you get tickets.” Sombra hopped from the barstool and clicked her computers shut. “You do realize how big your name is in the world, right? Having you present will increase the news worthiness of the event here in Japan. And not to mention the remarks you will make to your pocket politicians. They were dying to give you access. All you have to do is show up.”

“Because you wanted to get access to their technology.” Hanzo failed to contain a groan.

“Well… just to see it.” Sombra hedged. “It’s not like I’m going to steal anything. I mean, have you even seen Vishkar’s hard light technology? It is beyond fantastic. I’ve been wanting to get a good look at it since they made the announcement. Now I can!” The hacker’s grin never dimmed has she spoke. Her excitement was infectious. Even typically dour Hanzo released the amused and indulgent half smile.

“Alright. But this is next week.”

“All the more reason to get started.” Sombra was half way out of the door.

“Started on what?” Hanzo called after her.

“Shopping! You are going to get me a new wardrobe. Can’t really go to Utopaea in what we got. I mean look at Jesse. He’s hobo central.” Only the pink hair and bright eyes poked around the doorframe. “First ramen, then shopping. Sounds like a fabulous way to make up for everything.” Then it was gone.

Jesse caught himself chuckling at her antics. He turned to pull Hanzo along but saw the man staring at the dartboard. Frown on his face. “Jesse? What about you? I understand that Sombra will take matters into her own hands in order to feel satisfied that I have paid my due in her eyes. But what of you?”

With a heavy sigh, Jesse stepped closer and let his right hand cup Hanzo’s cheek. What he wouldn’t do to give this man piece of mind. “Hanzo, you’ve taken up with a hacker who blackmails people for a hobby. So already questionable morals there. And a biker whose only question is which one is the target. Killing for whatever the reason isn’t new to me. Doing whatever the boss says also ain’t new. And you’re becoming a boss. I don’t ask for much, but a simple why it had to be done helps.” There was a moment of thrilling surprise when Hanzo did not back away from the contact. Jesse had to remind himself not to push it.

“And if I do not want to become a boss?”

“Then I can roll with that too.” The gunslinger brushed his right thumb across Hanzo’s cheek before returning the hand to his pocket. He relished the smooth skin beneath his callouses, trying not to reach for more. It was better that way. At least until Hanzo was more open to it. “I know what we got as a relationship is pretty stagnant and odd as hell, but talk to me. Or shut it down completely. I’m kinda at a loss of what to do when you pull this shit. I said before that I can look past a lot of things, but when it comes to close friends and family then you gotta say something. Not just brush it under the rug and forget it ever happened.”

“Ugh! Are you guys coming or what! I mean I could order for you and let it get cold.” A high pitched female voice punctured their moment. Again.

Jesse growled in annoyance. “Sombra!”

“Well get a move on already. Or Hanzo’s going to get a bill that he wasn’t expecting.”

“Sombra!” Hanzo shouted after the trailing laughter. 

Chuckling, Jesse snagged Hanzo’s right hand and tugged. “Let’s go before she makes good on her promises.” He was pleased when the archer trotted with him. Their fingers laced together and squeezed tight. All was not yet lost.

“I swear she stands outside the doorway and waits for just the right moment to interrupt.” Hanzo groused.

“On that we can agree.”


	12. Shining City on a Hill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things start to heat up. And it's Jesse's fault.

**Chapter Twelve: Shining City on a Hill**

“Nope. Enjoy your trip. Send me a post card. I’m not going.” Jesse spun in his boots, screeching on the polished tile as he did so. With a quick firm grip, Hanzo caught the belt on the cowboy’s jeans. Probably the only article of clothing that did not look like it was about to rip with the strength of holding the full grown American in place. A quiet grunt forced its way out of McCree’s lungs when he realized he was going nowhere.

Sombra had purchased three tickets. So if Hanzo was going to suffer through this trip, then so was Jesse. “I will make two concessions. Your hat and that hideous belt buckle. But you will go and you will dress appropriately.” From the corner of his eye, Hanzo saw what amounted to a deflating ego. With Jesse relenting to the high end tailor, the archer finally released the belt.

“You forgot the boots.” McCree groused.

This time Hanzo closed his eyes and counted. Why was getting the biker into proper fitting clothing such a chore? “You won’t need boots. You will be wearing dress shoes. It’s called a suit. Just be glad I am not forcing a tuxedo on you. Utopaea has a strict dress code, even for visitors. And as you are now, you would not make it onto the plane.”

The scowl beneath the bushy sideburns was sour enough to spoil yogurt. “Good. Because no one should be forced to wear that kind of getup.”

“You will. Because she got you a ticket.” Hanzo pointed to the young woman browsing through gowns on the other end of the store. Sombra and her bright pink hair was out of place within the shop, but she was thrilled with her purchases so far. She had several smart suits and a few casual dresses. It seemed she had no specific style, buying whatever struck her fancy. One thing they all had in common was the bright colors.

Jesse on the other hand groaned and complained every step of the way. And that was only from carrying Sombra’s bags. Hanzo had not forced McCree to try on anything until this store. It was as if the very act of looking at new clothing was painful. And wearing any would kill him. 

“Give it a rest, Jesse.” Sombra called still flicking through the hangers, browsing. “Or did you forget that you currently live in a castle. Fell in love with the heir to a billionaire. And if you ever want to be seen at a public gathering with him, you will dress accordingly. Face it, _me amigo,_ you’re wearing a suit.” A sly side long smile caught Hanzo’s eye. She was clearly trying to assist him despite recent emotional turmoil. Either that or she simply enjoyed messing with the cowboy. The heir to the Shimada Clan would not hold it past her to to be joking around.

“No one asked you, Sombra,” Jesse grumbled. But he did enter the store properly. Hanzo was glad that the shop in Hanamura provided them with McCree’s sizes. It would make this process a little less painful. Though glancing at the already tattered jeans, the disgustingly torn and patched leather vest over a formerly golden button-down which had now faded into something more akin to a dandelion. Not for the first time he wondered what the man did to ruin his clothing so quickly. The castle staff had slipped new clothing in with each load of laundry when they saw the wear and tear of the cowboy’s attire get beyond acceptable. And even removed the worst offenders. Hanzo however was betting on Jesse stashing these new clothes in a drawer and continuing to wear the worn-out fabric. This endeavor would be more difficult than he thought.

“Jesse. Find something that fits. That is remotely comfortable. I won’t even argue with you on the colors. But it needs to be a suit. Dress pants, shirt and jacket. And shoes.” The look Hanzo got should have scalded him. “We are only going to be there for three days.”

“Three days of hell. This is not me, Hanzo,” Jesse waved his arm in a grand gesture to encompass the entire store. “None of this is. So why even pretend?”

Hanzo didn’t answer at first. Catching Jesse’s eyes and holding them. He sought for the words to convey his sincerity. He would have to settle with a thinly veiled plea. “Because I would like for you to be there with me.” Those words shattered the cowboy’s defenses. Hanzo watched the puffed up shoulders drop and the gunslinger’s jaw relax. Apparently he had surprised the man yet again. But it felt natural now to have Jesse beside him. Of course he would want his partner with him no matter where he went. Then a slow smile started to form. Hanzo had just found the words that would get this raging bull of an American to comply with what he asked. Sombra’s ability to manipulate people had nothing on this.

The same moment Hanzo realized this, Jesse groaned. The cowboy had come to the same conclusion. “Oh… that was low.”

“Used only in emergencies,” Hanzo held his right hand to mimic the Boy Scouts of America oath of honesty. Still the smug grin would not leave his face. Watching Jesse trudge into the racks of suits brought no end of amusement now.

The lithe pink haired hacker slid up beside him. Both of them watched the cowboy talk to the Omnic in charge of the store about finding an appropriately large size. “That was smooth.”

“Too easy.”

Sombra nudged him with her elbow. “Right. I forget you twist everyone else’s will to meet your own desires on a daily basis. But I thought you didn’t know anything about relationships.”

Hanzo shrugged, unable to smooth the grin from his face. “I took a gamble. It works so well in the movies too.” Sombra started chuckling. Seeing his mistake immediately, the heir added quietly. “Do us a favor and don’t tell him that.”

“That’s gonna cost you.”

“Private tour of the Vishkar installation good enough?” Hanzo let his eyes slide to gauge the hacker’s response.

She grinned and stuck out her right hand. “Deal.” McCree did not see the handshake between the two manipulators as he was struggling in the changing room.

Finally seeing the ratty biker step out neatly dressed in black slacks, matching vest and a vibrant crimson silk shirt made the whole trip worth it. He didn’t care what Jesse said about this place not suiting him. Given the care taken to keep his physique perfect, the clean lines of the dress shirt fit him beautifully. Only a custom tailored suit would accent his form better. Jesse was right about one thing. The cowboy did not know how to carry himself in the fancy attire. Hanzo was not going to push any further. He at least got Jesse into a suit. “The jacket?”

“He went to find one that would fit. Found one in that charcoal color but not black. Thought there might be some in storage.” Jesse padded from the dressing rooms towards where Hanzo waited in the socks he wore with the boots. That would have to change. Still without the hat and without the Deadlock belt buckle, McCree looked like a normal upstanding citizen. 

“Looking good, Jesse,” Sombra saddled up next to the cowboy, grin spread from ear to ear. “Now you just need a trip to the barber to get cleaned up right.”

“You’re one to talk, pink mohawk.”

“Hey. We’re all going to the salon tomorrow so don’t get any ideas.” The hacker punched Jesse’s arm to punctuate her remark.

“I don’t need to go to the salon. Banri-san can cut my hair same as he always has.”

Hanzo stepped in and adjusted the vest so it would lay flat against Jesse’s shoulders. He considered whether this was enough or if he would have to get the cowboy to wear a tie. That would probably take too much effort and argument. This was already more than he had expected Jesse to agree to. “Banri-san is a fine barber, but we are going to a salon for a more sophisticated cut. And Sombra has planned a whole day for herself. While we wait for her to finish we can do whatever else we wish.”

Jesse eyed Sombra, who held an emerald sequined gown over her arm. “A whole day, huh?”

“Well, I’m doing more than getting a haircut.” The hacker flashed her bright pink nails in the cowboy’s face.

 _”McCree-san, I have found the jacket.”_ The Omnic shop attendant emerged from the backroom with the matching black suit jacket. He assisted Jesse into the garment, testing the sleeves and seams to ensure the perfect fit.

The biker still grumbled, “Does it have to be so tight in the shoulders?”

“We’ll get you a properly tailored suit after the trip. For now this is appropriate.”

“Wait what do you mean tailored?”

“Exactly what it sounds like,” Hanzo hid a small chuckle as he turned away. “A suit specifically designed to fit your frame. Linus 23 there has enough information to get started. You should probably settle with that one, the dark charcoal and at least one more. It seems I was right.” The archer glanced over his shoulder to watch Jesse. “You look very good in black.” The cowboy looked to be on the verge of a retort but the compliment stopped him dead in his tracks.

Continuing to another clerk in order to finalize the purchase, Sombra joined him. Hanzo raised a questioning eyebrow, waiting for her snarky remark. “You should just tell him.”

“Tell him what?”

“Not you too.” The hacker groaned. “He likes you, you gotta know that much.” Hanzo nodded. He couldn’t avoid knowing that. “Then why don’t you tell him that you like him back? It’s not that hard.”

“I thought it was obvious.” Hanzo watched the petite woman gear up for what appeared to be quite a lecture. The heir to the Shimada Clan halted her. “What you fail to realize, Sombra, is that though I like him, find him interesting and amusing, the relationship you are dreaming of is not the same one I’m discovering. I’ll tell you the same thing I told Genji: Leave us alone.”

“You really are no fun.”

“I am sure you will still manage to badger Jesse about it. He at least might rise to the bait.” When Hanzo glanced back to the dressing rooms, he found McCree settling the black leather hat on his head and kicking his cowboy boots into place. The only thing missing was the ever present cigarette dangling from his lips. An intriguing mix of rambunctiousness and lethality within an absurd cowboy getup. With Jesse McCree there was always more to discover.

}{{{}}}{

Hanzo approached the bench at the edge of the gardens where the resident cowboy liked to while away the time. Jesse lounged in the late afternoon sun, hat tilted back to take in the lingering warmth. The first thing that Hanzo noticed in the gunslinger’s profile was the thick cigar jutting past neatly trimmed sideburns. 

“This is new,” he commented, claiming the remainder of the bench to Jesse’s right.

Jesse removed the cigar and studied it between his thumb and forefinger. White smoke wafted through the air into nothingness. “Sombra got them for me.”

“That is unexpectedly generous of her.”

“As payment to stop asking where Genji is.”

“You are still asking?”

“Yup. At least daily. Sometimes more. Told her to keep me supplied and I won’t ask. That’s a fair trade.” McCree shrugged and took a deep inhale from the spicy smelling cigar. Hanzo could not quite place the scent under the reek of burnt tobacco. 

“I still wish you wouldn’t smoke.”

“And you should mind your own business.” Even as he said this with annoyance clouding his words, Jesse leaned over and snuffed the cigar out against the stone wall behind them. The consideration surprised Hanzo. The cowboy had never extinguished his cigarettes when the Shimada heir joined him. But then cigarettes did not last as long as cigars. Jesse even made sure the end was cool enough before placing it back into the case with the others. “So why did you come down here?” The probing question was not quite accusatory. Anger at being told how to live his life bled through the conversation.

Hanzo arched an eyebrow as he studied the gunslinger beside him. Faded blue collared shirt under the Deadlock Rebel’s vest. “Must I always have a purpose to find you?”

“Always have before.” Jesse eyed him skeptically.

With a sigh the archer realized that was true. But not the reason for this visit. “I suppose wanting company doesn’t count as a purpose.” After the past few weeks of being avoided and isolated with only business to attend to, Hanzo was getting stir crazy. To use Jesse’s term. He had become accustomed to traveling to various encounters. Being active in the search for Talon’s and now Overwatch’s activities against the Shimada Clan. Collecting information to send back to Deadlock and Los Muertos so they could bolster their defenses. What Hanzo did now amounted to desk work. He imagined Jesse felt similar distaste for the current doldrums.

The bursting forth of the brightest possible grin shocked Hanzo enough that he was unable to react or stop the cowboy. In one smooth twist Jesse spun on the bench, draped his legs over the side and dropped his head onto Hanzo’s lap. “Alright, company kept.” McCree dropped the Stetson over his face, hiding his massive mischievous smile.

Hanzo froze. What had just happened? The first time Jesse did this was right after the psychological breakdown. Then Hanzo had relented because tossing Jesse off had seemed inconsiderate to his suffering. Now the damn cowboy had just gone and done the same thing for no other reason than to get on Hanzo’s nerves. “Hey!” The protest was belated as he came to his sense.

Muffled words from under the leather hat, “Too late. I’m already here.” The cheeky bastard was still grinning. Hanzo’s mind was still reeling from this new and invasive activity. The cowboy made it worse by slipping his left hand into the archer’s. Lightly gripping his fingers and dragging his hand across the rough cotton fabric until both hands rested on Jesse’s abdomen. Hanzo could only stare wide eyed at their connected hands. How had this happened? What was he supposed to do with it now?

So, it was not uncomfortable as far as positions went. But in reality Hanzo still had trouble leaning into the cowboy to express growing affection. This went far beyond using a shoulder as a headrest. It did not matter how long he stared in disbelief at the black cowboy hat, the situation did not change. He was stuck.

“You are insufferable,” he sighed. Moving the man seemed more effort than it was worth. Accepting the circumstances, Hanzo readjusted their left hands until their fingers interlaced palm to the back of the hand. The familiar contact gave him a point of stability.

Jesse tilted his hat back just enough to gaze softly up at the archer, eyes still crinkled in amusement. “But you keep coming back.” The gentle smile accepted that he had caused enough chaos for now. And promised to make things better. Hanzo recognized that smile from the few quiet moments they had when Jesse wanted to express his feelings. This time though the cowboy resettled the Stetson back over his face and simply drew Hanzo’s fingers into a secure and comforting grip.

Collecting his breath with the radiating warmth of a body constantly reminding him of its presence was not an easy task. Hanzo had never felt the need for physicality beyond a brief handshake or hug within his family. Combat as always was a different story. Either way the intentions behind such contact were crystal clear. This baffled him. What benefit did this position offer? What purpose did it serve other than to distress him? Yet Jesse looked content. An easy rise and fall to his chest suggesting a drift into the realm of sleep.

Hanzo closed his eyes and leaned back against the sunbaked stones. He just had to accept that the cowboy had the need to physically express himself and this was one of those ways. And it was nice to be outside beyond the boardroom meetings. Company without frivolous conversation felt good. No pressure to do anything or be anyone. Giving Jesse’s hand a soft squeeze, Hanzo reassured himself this would be fine. The cowboy wasn’t trying anything. He was just being expressive as always. In the most obnoxious way possible.

Taking his holographic reader from his packet, Hanzo started to flip through various articles and reports. He decided to take the quiet time to catch up on the work he had been avoiding. Knowing he was not alone made the process easier. He hadn’t realized how simply having someone he trusted next to him had become so important. Such a gradual understanding. Now it felt like second nature.

The orange glow of sunset settled upon their enclosure. Late spring warmth dissipated into the growing shadows. Only the neon red glow of the holographic screen bridged the twilight. “Hey, Hanzo.” Jesse spoke through his hat as he tilted it back. “I’m going to ask you a potentially sensitive question. You probably won’t answer.”

“Then why bother?” He kept skimming the report even as he answered.

“Because I think it is important.” Jesse paused, removing the Stetson completely and settling it on his thighs. “When are you gonna take a break?”

“I am. Right now. With you.”

“No. You’re reading the first quarter earnings report for,” the gunslinger paused with a frown creasing his brow, “I think it’s the medicine manufacturing? Is there anything you family is not part of?”

“Foods. And you can read that?” Hanzo glanced from the screen to Jesse’s eyes. He had not expected the American to be able to read business Japanese kanji.

“I am still taking lessons.” The cowboy grinned. Warm brown irises nearly disappeared under the crinkles caused by the smile.

With a raised eyebrow, the heir to the Shimada Clan questioned his partner. _”Then why are we still speaking English.”_

Jesse grimaced. _”Because I can’t speak fast._ And not nearly well enough to get my point across.”

 _”That is what practice is for."_ Hanzo closed the reader. Now that they were conversing, he would give his full attention to the cowboy. Even if it was odd to speak to someone whose head was resting on his lap.

“Seriously though. When are you going to take a vacation?”

“We will be going to Utopaea tomorrow.”

“No, that’s a publicity stunt and too appease Sombra. I mean an actual vacation. You’re always busy with the family business. Always talking about for the Clan, for your father, or the organization. Well, when are you going to do something for yourself?”

“And being with you doesn’t count?” Again Hanzo arched an eyebrow at his partner in curiosity. Surely spending non mission specific time with McCree counted for something.

“Well as flattered as I am, you aren’t exactly doing me.” Hanzo narrowed his brow, wondering if this was another English phrase that he missed in translation. Jesse simply chuckled and replaced his cowboy hat. “Anyway think about it. Perhaps Sombra knows a place.” After a moment longer than he wanted to admit, Hanzo squeezed his eyes shut. Jesse was referring to sex. After living with Genji, he really should be better at recognizing these references. This American was too much sometimes. Hanzo dropped his head against the stone at the darkening sky. Small pinpoints of light showed the few stars bright enough to shine through the city’s glow. 

“After we are done in Utopaea, we’ll see what we can do.” It would be an interesting change of events. When Hanzo had shared the plan to visit the World’s Fair with his father and his Uncle Shinya in the hospital room, it had not gone over well. Still Sojiro agreed that a presence at the fair would benefit the Clan’s reputation and prove that they had not been demolished by the attack from Talon. With his father’s blessing Hanzo was about to use this trip to make a statement. Not much of a vacation.

{}}}}{{{{}

Jesse pulled at the sleeve of his blueberry dark silk dress shirt. Sombra had a field day with the color names. But for Jesse, from the moment he put it on he could feel the cuffs strangling his wrists. And something about the vest irritated his collar. Don’t even get him started on how tight the jacket felt every time he tried to shrug his shoulders. Yet any larger size interfered with ability to freely draw a gun. Of course he wasn’t allowed to have his during this trip. One more aggravation.

“Leave it alone, Jesse. You can’t roll up your sleeves.” Hanzo straightened his own jacket as they stepped out of the airport. “Tattoos are not welcomed here.” 

“Whose idea was this anyway?” McCree pulled his hat low against the soaring Indian sun. Customs had found his five secret stashes of cigarettes. At least he had been smart enough to leave his cigars at the castle. Just meant the outlook on his disposition was not looking good.

“Here,” Smooth long black hair poked into his vision as Sombra held up a small box under his nose. Obnoxious grin on her face. Same annoying personality different look. “Nicotine.” Without her pink hair and massive gages, the hacker looked like any other technology professional. Probably what she was going for.

“Right.” Jesse scowled at the little hacker. “This is your fault.” He snatched the pack of gum from her hand. Six hours since his last cigarette. With the knowledge of not being able smoke for three days. “Tell me they still have alcohol here,” he asked, popping the mint flavored concoction into his mouth.

“In limited quantities.” Sombra sauntered across the brilliant white paving stones. “You can thank me later,” she called over her shoulder. Jesse didn’t know what the girl was talking about but he sure wasn’t thanking her for the gum. Not when it was her fault in the first place. Her deep purple business suit stuck out like a sore thumb against the alabaster white and sparkling glass of the Utopaean buildings. Soaring structures that glowed and arched overhead in ways that defied gravity. Jesse could deal with canyon walls that high because he trusted stone to stay in place. These skyscrapers baffled his senses.

“Come on, Jesse. Let her have her fun.” Hanzo walked up beside him as they watched the hacker flit across the courtyard and through the various shops in boundless excitement.

“I forgot. I’m supposed to be blaming you for forcing me to come along.”

The shorter man tilted his head up just to silently call Jesse an idiot with that one raised eyebrow. “You should be thankful that Zed is able to house our valuables safely. Where customs cannot reach.” The heir to the Shimada Clan started following the trail of purple. “Let’s get set up in the hotel and see what the World’s Fair is all about.” Jesse had no choice but to go along. Particularly once the massive silent Omnic brushed up behind him. The cowboy suspected that his only valuable Zed smuggled in was his revolver. He honestly doubted Hanzo would bring him cigarettes. But then the archer was doing this entire trip without his weapon of choice, having to rely on his bodyguard Omnic and McCree. 

So Jesse stuffed his hands as deep as his pockets would allow and trudged after his partner. This did not promise to be an enjoyable trip. If he thought living in Shimada Castle was annoying, the spotlessness of this city irritated him. No place with people living their normal lives had any right to be this clean.

Upon entering the hotel, Jesse’s worst fears were realized. No smoking signs on the doors. No sign of alcohol in the lobby restaurant. Staff in pristine white and blue uniforms that blended in with the shimmering white walls. Sterile. That was the word for it. It all felt horribly contrived. And fake. Neither Sombra nor Hanzo seemed bothered by any of it. They waltzed on through. Sombra chattering on about the installations for the latest in technology. Hanzo making noncommittal phrases. Zed silent as usual.

They didn’t even go to the rooms first. The smartly dressed Omnic yakuza soldier and the bellboy deposited the bags while Hanzo lead the way to the conference hall. The gum was now giving off a bad taste in Jesse’s mouth. He looked for a place to dispose of it. If he thought the gardeners at the castle were bad, he suspected any littering here would be worse. Only problem was that trashcans seemed few and far between. Jesse pulled at the tight shirt cuffs in aggravation. What was there to even like about this place?

“Keep up, Jesse,” Sombra hollered from down the blank white hall. She mixed with the growing crowd of professional nerds in suits.

“I hear ya,” McCree called back. He veered off the main corridor towards a bin that looked promising. This gum thing was going to be such a hassle.

“Jesse McCree.” That deep authoritative voice was on the wrong end of familiar. The man should have been dead twice over. “I never thought I’d see you at a tech convention.” Sure enough as the cowboy turned towards the voice, he saw the hated man in a white suit. Jesse tossed the spent gum into the trash harder than necessary.

“Akande. What a surprise to see you alive.” McCree growled. This trip was just getting better and better. “Next time I won’t miss.”

“Oh, you didn’t miss.” The African businessman turned terrorist pulled his shirt collar away to reveal scar tissue. “I am just stronger than those pathetic excuses for bullets.” Akande straightened his burnt red shirt and black tie under the bone white suit jacket. “And you did manage to damage my gauntlet. So some payback is in order.” His tone grew dark and Jesse’s fingers itched at his right side. Wishing he had his revolver at hand.

“Where did you get that thing anyway?” Jesse jutted his chin towards the African’s right arm as if the golden gauntlet was still in place.

“My mentor.”

“Jesse,” a sharp call from the main corridor interrupted the standoff. Hanzo had backtracked to see what kept the cowboy. Judging from the archer’s scowl he was no more pleased to see Akande than McCree was. “Akande. This is a surprise.”

“It shouldn’t be. This is after all a forum for the latest in technological advancement. My family’s company always has an installation at these events to show what cybernetic prosthetics can accomplish. But you, Hanzo, your family has never had a presence at these conferences. Tell me, what has changed.” The African turned to face the heir to the Shimada Clan. Boldly turning his back on the gunslinger. But this was a public facility. Jesse couldn’t do anything without getting into trouble with the authorities. 

At Hanzo’s elbow Sombra peeked around to see what the commotion was about. The heir held himself regally, much like the massive black man currently between him and Jesse. In McCree’s opinion, though both young leaders wore confidence like a second skin, Hanzo displayed it with much more class. Akande seemed to be more overbearing than in control. The yakuza boss in training never once loss eye contact with the man who had invaded his home. “There has come a need for public appearances and research into the future. I look forward to seeing your installation on the conference floor. Perhaps you would care to give us a tour, should your schedule allow.” Shimada made it appear as if there were no causes of animosity between the two. But the heir’s eyes held a different story. Ice had nothing on the cold burning glare carefully hidden behind the placid mask of indifference and professionalism.

“That sounds like a marvelous idea. We’ll keep in touch.” Akande grinned broadly. With a shrug and tug on his lapels, the African business man strode towards Hanzo’s end of the hall and the rest of the conference. He paused when the two leaders stood even with each other. “Word of advice. You might want to keep a better handle on your strays. Wouldn’t want the Utopaean authorities to get the wrong idea about them.” Then the white suit disappeared around the corner to blend with the crowd.

“What do you think you were doing, Jesse,” Hanzo hissed the moment the cowboy approached the heir.

McCree bit out his answer, angry at being accused of trying to start anything. “You think I knew he was gonna be here? I was just tossing a piece of gum.”

“Don’t get into trouble here. I will not have the leverage to pull you out of jail.”

“I’m not backing down ‘cause he is a self important prick.”

“You will while we are here. Not because of his attitude, but because we are trying to keep a low profile. And the press is always watching. I trust you can swallow your pride for three days. Avoid Akande. Or I will have Zed babysit you in lockdown in the room.” Hanzo’s narrowed eyes accepted no argument. It was the boss look.

Jesse cracked his neck and clenched his jaw. He did not like this one bit. He also needed a good long smoke and a stiff drink. Tugging his hat low he hid the glower forming on his face. The biker was just not cut out for these high class criminal dealings. Pretending to be congenial in public and shooting each other in private back alleys. Deadlock didn’t work that way. Whenever they had a problem, they just shot their way through it. Regardless of where. What he wouldn’t give to aim his revolver between Akande’s eyes and pull the trigger. Making sure the man was dead the next time they met. But this was Hanzo’s operation. And Shimadas did things their own way. Play nice in public. That was the rule. Make sure no one knew or saw any illegal activity when it happened.

The young yakuza boss tilted his head waiting for Jesse’s concession. No doubt the same expectation he held all his foot soldiers to. Jesse was a hired gun. Not a decision maker. A position he was going to be stuck in for sometime to come. “All right. Fine. But I’m telling ya now, I don’t like it.” 

“You don’t have to like it.” Hanzo conceded. “You just have to accept it while we’re here.” The archer took a deep breath and when he opened his eyes again the boss look was gone. “We can at least try to have a pleasant time. Akande is under the same restraints we are. So nothing will happen here. Not with the strict guidelines on behavior. Can you at least play along for now?”

McCree ran his hand through his hair, holding the Stetson just above his head. “I expect smokes.”

“Already taken care of.” Hanzo turned away. “You can wait until this evening.” McCree stuffed his hands back into his pockets, gripping the pack of nicotine gum. The stresses involved with this trip meant that pack might not last him the day. Then Hanzo’s words filtered through his brain. The yakuza had smuggled in cigarettes. God he loved that man.

A slender arm snaked its way around his left elbow. “Relax, amigo. We got your back. Though now I know why you had troubling killing that guy. He’s got a cybernetic right arm and billions of nanos inside his system to keep it running. No doubt this is the current pinnacle of his prosthetic technology. It’s rather impressive.” The little Mexican dragged him along behind the perfectly fitted, exorbitant expensively matte black jacket of the compact Shimada heir. Hanzo had to keep his professional airs in place now that they were back in public. McCree and Sombra were just tagalongs. 

The chatter of businessmen and techies filled the corridor as they entered main display hall. Jesse latched onto the conversation. “How do you know all this?”

“Research.” The hacker grinned up at him. “Now as cool as nanos and prosthetics are, the highlight of this whole fair is Vishkar. You know the ones who hosted this event.” Then Sombra wouldn’t shut up about hard light technology. Not that Jesse would have stopped her. But he didn’t understand most of it. It was a good distraction. Three or four pieces of gum and their wrappers created a new disposal pocket. 

At least the view was decent. Hanzo chatted with the inventors and CEOs. Poised and pleasant. His neatly trimmed hair, shorter than before and pulled into a tight tail and pinned to the back of his head, except for a stray lock curving along his angular profile. Broad shoulders deceptively hidden under the tailored suit. Muscle play concealed from sight but each movement showing off the archer’s precision. The stance, casual and still prepared for anything, commanded the attention of anyone Hanzo interacted with. If Jesse couldn’t drink or smoke then he would watch. And imagine.

Sombra had to know that McCree did not comprehend a single word she said that afternoon. She didn’t call him on it. Didn’t stop her commentary. She was having the time of her life and Jesse was her audience. He even managed a few questions to restart her stream of consciousness conversation. He supposed sharing in excitement that did not include gunfire had its perks.

Dinner went much the same way. Hanzo, and by extension Jesse and Sombra, had been invited to join the CEOs of the Vishkar Corporation along with several of their lead architects. Apparently the private tour of the hard light installation had turned into a business meeting. Jesse simply continued to cruise through with the bare minimum of comprehension. Sombra asked the questions. Hanzo politely commented without commitment to any promotion or promise. The Vishkar people probed and prodded at the Shimada wall. It was art in conversation.

Not until after dinner did they head to their rooms. Sombra saying something about visiting the pool or spa area. Zed had handed them the keys then went off into his own room to do whatever it was Omnics did. Then Hanzo opened the door to a luxurious suite, better than anything Jesse had ever been in much less dreamed of. White and gold dominated the color scheme. They entered into a sitting area with minimalistic styling in the pearl colored furniture. And a totally separate bedroom. Jesse really shouldn’t be dumbfounded by this anymore. He dropped the suit jacket onto the nearest chair

“Catch.” Hanzo called before a beige and blue cardboard package soared through the air. Finally a cigarette. The lighter was taped to the box. The archer must have dug it out of his bag from wherever Zed had managed to stash it. Jesse ripped into it immediately. “Tonight was only the introduction. You’re going to need to pace yourself to get through the rest. Sombra did tell you about the banquet and ball tomorrow night?”

McCree groaned and tucked an unlit cigarette into his mouth as he made his way to the balcony. “She said something about it. Tuned it out for the most part.”

“Not surprising.” The archer joined him on the balcony but chose to lounge in the provided chairs than lean against the railing with the cowboy. Smoke oozed into the night air once Jesse ignited the cigarette. Just the act of lighting it eased half the tension from the day. “Think you’ll make it?”

“Do I have a choice?” McCree drew in a long breath and blew out the stream of white smoke with satisfaction. He sat back against the balcony railing to regard the Shimada heir. He had certainly enjoyed watching Hanzo on the convention floor, but these moments were the ones he liked the most. Unguarded and constantly with a preoccupied smile on his face. “I think I’ll get through it. Just don’t be surprised if I end up snapping if I go too long without a cigarette.”

“I was afraid of that.” Hanzo leaned back in the chair. His eyes drifting to the perfectly maintained city scape. Clean white lines with a hint of blue light. “Up for a walk through the city? I don’t think we’ll have much time tomorrow and we’ll be leaving the next afternoon.”

“I think Sombra mentioned a pond with a water and light show. Does that go on all night?”

With a shrug, Hanzo returned his attention to the cowboy. “I wouldn’t doubt it. At least for the days of the fair. When you’re finished we can go.” The archer then pulled out his phone as if to indicate that there was no rush. Since the heir did not put up the holographic display, Jesse had no idea what the man was reading. Didn’t stop McCree from watching. 

The cigarette really didn’t last all that long with how he took deep drags on it. At least Akande was far from his mind right then. Hanzo was right. Nothing was going to happen within this city. It was too well maintained and policed. There had to be a dictator somewhere behind the curtain. But that also didn’t matter. He was only going to be here for two more days. Finally he snuffed the butt against he railing and returned inside to dispose of the remains. Hanzo joined him and sighed as Jesse tucked two more cigarettes and the lighter into his vest pocket. The cowboy just gave a toothy grin and tipped his head, leading the way.

Jesse even offered his arm once they had cleared the more public areas of town. Hanzo predictably refused it. Their ambulation was still pleasant. Passed through in companionable silence. McCree knew the act of placating the business men had to wear on Hanzo’s demeanor. Though the man was perfectly capable of dealing with the pushy salesmen, it wasn’t what he enjoyed. Therefore the cowboy had no problem with accompanying his partner through the lamp filled streets and the few passersby also out enjoying a quiet evening stroll. 

The reflection pool where the water show took place already had several couples and groups enjoying the arcs of spouting water colored by lasers and spotlights. Hanzo settled on a bench in a more isolated alcove of the park. Jesse lounged next to his partner, left arm draped along the back of the bench behind Hanzo’s back. It wasn’t exactly touching so he had to still be good even as he showed what affection he could in the limited atmosphere. The heir to the Shimada Clan did not respond, though his posture relaxed. There they sat as the display dazzled its audience. Jesse was impressed. He couldn’t claim to have seen anything like it.

Evening turned to night. Gradually the sparse crowd dissipated until they were the only two stalwart viewers left. Not that either was really watching the water by that point. Jesse’s hat was low and the constant roar of the fountain was edging him into sleep. It had been a long day. Glancing over at his partner, Jesse released a soft smile as he saw that Hanzo also appeared to doze off in the peaceful aura around them. He reached over and brushed the strand of dark silky hair from the man’s eyes. Jesse did not expect the brief quirk of a frown to form on Hanzo’s lips. The light motion fully woke the archer. 

“While I appreciate that you require physical touch as a form of expression, I would like for you to accept that I don’t.” Hanzo turned to face Jesse fully. Though he was not angry, the look of contained annoyance met Jesse’s creased brow of confusion.

“You’ve never complained before.”

“I did and you continue to push against what I find acceptable.” Hanzo’s expression closed off even as Jesse struggled to piece together the message. It was Hanzo’s idea to go for a walk tonight. Be the only two out late in an admittedly beautiful city by the deserted fountain. Just to tell him this? What had Jesse missed? He couldn’t have planned a more romantic outing if he had tried.

“Alright, explain to me how this is not alright and yet I could lay in your lap last night?”

“That was not in public.”

“Agh.” Jesse dropped his head back on his shoulders. The sky was painfully blank thanks to the many lanterns around. “So all of Hanamura is considered private, but this? No one is here. I never even bothered you in the hotel. How am I supposed to figure any of this out when you don’t tell me until after the fact?” 

“Don’t you have any sense of decorum?”

“First off, I simply brushed your hair away. It’s not like I’m trying to make out with you. And second, I’m an American backroads biker. My sense of decorum is not going to be the same as yours. And never will. I’d very much appreciate it if you didn’t hold me up to some sort of standard that I don’t even know about.” Jesse leaned back irritated. This was not how the night was supposed to go. This was not how any of this was supposed to go. One moment he thought things were moving along smoothly then some insignificant road bump threw it all off. It wasn’t his fault this time. How was he supposed to know any of this preference stuff if Hanzo didn’t start communicating. At least Jesse was trying to maintain the unspoken parameters. 

The yakuza boss in training was back in full force. “Then let’s have that discussion now.” Jesse really needed to get better at reading Hanzo’s limited visual range of emotions.

“Alright, shoot. I asked ya before what your boundaries were and you didn’t have an answer. So, what are they? And how do I avoid pissing you off.”

“Do you have to phrase it that way?” Hanzo asked tiredly.

“Tonight I do. I thought we had a good thing going. Yeah, I know I pushed, but I didn’t think it was anything outrageous. You never said anything before now. So how am I supposed to know there are different rules beyond your castle.”

Defensive, the archer turned in his seat and released a full on scowl at the cowboy. “Why wouldn’t there be? I have enough problems with my family speculating about my relationships. I don’t need all of Japan or even the world doing the same. And this place is crawling with paparazzi.”

“That’s all you’re worried about? The damn cameramen?”

“No, Jesse. That is not all I’m worried about. It’s just one of the things. And right now it is the biggest one.”

Jesse sighed and shifted his hat. He was tired of this guessing game. “Look, Hanzo, I can learn how to live with no public displays of affection. But if you don’t want any physical relationship, or romantic one, I gotta know. Seeing as how that’s exactly what I’m after, I’m not gonna lie that it will be a disappointment. But I can be your friend. And only your friend. You just gotta draw some clear lines for me.”

Hanzo pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly in frustration. Well, Jesse was trying to make things easier. “That is not what I am saying, Jesse. That is exactly the type of relationship I am trying to figure out and explore with you. But you are pushy and don’t know when to quit.”

“You’re not exactly telling me when I go too far.”

“For someone so observant you are incredible dense. Or you willfully ignore any protest.”

“Now you’re starting to hit below the belt.” McCree groused. “If you’re that uncomfortable with something there is such a thing as a word called ‘no.’ And how are you ever going to get comfortable with anything if you don’t try it.”

“Goodnight, Jesse.” Hanzo stood abruptly. His tone final.

Jesse however wasn’t ready to let it go. “Hanzo, wait.” He reached for Hanzo’s arm to pull him back and continue the discussion. They needed to sort this out or they would continue to have these kind of arguments. 

The archer deftly brushed off the clumsy grab. The armrest becoming a barrier. “I said, goodnight, Jesse.” Hanzo stalked away without even a glance towards the American.

Anger flashed through him. The cowboy had tried to be a gentleman about the whole thing, but something wasn’t getting across. “Now hold on there.” Hanzo did not turn around or even acknowledge McCree. “Hanzo!” Jesse’s long legs carried him faster than shorter Japanese man. He slipped around in front of the archer and his right hand firmly gripped Hanzo’s upper arm. “I’m tryin’ to talk to ya!” They needed to clear this up before the night was over.

McCree’s arm was numb before he realized he no longer had a hold on the son of the yakuza boss. Hanzo still stood within arms reach and stared cooly with narrow eyes. Then the pain started. Slow at first then his entire right arm felt aflame. “OW! What the hell was that?”

“Pressure points.” Right. Ninja.

“Why did you do that?” Jesse cradled his arm, working his fingers as the pain subsided. 

“Because you don’t seem to listen to anything else. I said, goodnight. End of conversation. You on the other hand insist on continuing when you can’t even listen to what I’m telling you. Spouting off whatever pops into your head with no basis in reality. I’ll talk to you when I clear my head. Be it in the morning or after a walk. I don’t know yet.”

“Why not now?”

“Because right now I feel like shoving a knife down your throat.”

“That’s kinda harsh.”

“It’s called discipline, Jesse. I suggest you lean some. Goodnight.” Hanzo briskly walked around the cowboy and Jesse could only stare after him. The yakuza boss in training headed towards the long dead end pier where the shallow bottomed boats were kept. Soon he was barely a shadow in the distant light.

Digging one of the cigarettes from his pocket, Jesse stalked to the nearest bench that Hanzo would cross paths with on his return trip. Lighting it, he tried to figure out where he went wrong. Gazing along the pier to the faint outline of a human being, Jesse replayed the scene repeatedly. There was only one conclusion to be made. He had royally screwed up this time. Problem was, he didn’t really understand what he had done. Not to mention how he was supposed to fix it.


	13. Point of No Return

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Compromise and dealing with the unexpected.

**Chapter Thirteen: Point of No Return**

For the first time in his life, Jesse wished he had a watch. Or a phone. Something beside the one remaining cigarette that he kept rolling between his fingers. He would have smoked the pack by now if he had it. Anything to give him a distraction from the argument running in his head. Replaying on an endless loop, mocking McCree for not being able to figure out what he had done wrong. At least a time piece to know how long Hanzo had been standing in the middle of darkness. 

Jesse frowned into his hands, watching the thin white stick of tobacco leaves twist between his fingers. There were not going to be any words to fix this. Him and his big mouth ruined something special. When was he going to learn? He thought he had done things right this time. Why did these things always seem to go sideways right when he thought them secure. Placing his hat on the bench next to him, Jesse dropped his head into his hands, fingers gripping his hair. 

He didn’t want to loose this. 

“We need to talk, but first you are going to listen.” Hanzo spoke in cool determination. Jesse turned his head to gaze up at the ninja. He hadn’t even heard the sharp click of the expensive leather shoes on the cement. The smooth angles gazing down at him showed no sign of the previous anger. Yet still held all the intensity of a man who had made a decision. It was a good look on the young yakuza boss. “There are certain… things about this attempt at a relationship that need to be clarified.”

Straightening himself, Jesse sighed. “You don’t need to treat this like one of your business deals.”

“Yes, Jesse, I do. That is the only comparison I have.” Uncertainty flashed across his face, almost undoing the confidence his partner had gathered.

He rolled the cigarette around a few more times before finally sticking it back into his vest pocket alongside the lighter. Jesse shuffled over on the bench to give Hanzo room. The cowboy hat took residence in his hands. He fiddled with the brim, twisting it over and over as he accepted the situation. “Alright. I’m listening.”

The archer hovered above him for a few seconds longer then settled on the bench next to Jesse’s left. Hanzo leaned forward and rested his forearms onto the fine cashmere pants covering his knees. Just inside the archer’s starched white cuff a bit of blue poked through, as if the dragon was trying to nose out an escape from the confinement. “I don’t know how many relationships you have had in the past. Nor does it matter regarding us. I only bring it up so you would understand that I have had not had that same experience. Nor have I sought such experiences. They never interested me. Not in the same way they consumed Genji and many of our cousins. Occasional dinners, a few meetings at college social events.”

“Sounds dismal.”

Hanzo cast a contemptuous side look towards Jesse. “You said you would listen.” Jesse used his thumb and forefinger to zip his mouth shut and throw away the key. Hanzo quirked a small smile at the gesture. If Jesse could still create that smile, then perhaps there was still hope. “I never found it important.” The archer continued where he left off. “Never invested time or effort into it. Never felt a loss. When I met you… you were intriguing. Opposing personalities inside one person. At once ludicrous and lethal. Nor could I find fault with any of your assessments or decisions in battles. In short, I trusted you. Even within my own family I trust few to the same extent I do you. And you are supposed to be an outsider. But you proved yourself time and again and did what was best for the Clan. When the incident at the pier happened and I was faced with the prospect of loosing you… If you had simply returned to Deadlock, alive and unharmed, I might have not have thought about it any further. But I could not tolerate the possibility of loosing you to… drowning.”

“That’s a very analytical way to profess love.” The overconfident grin was starting to come back. Maybe he hadn’t ruined everything.

“Jesse.” The archer’s narrowed eyes told him he was pushing too fast.

“Right. Listening.”

Hanzo nodded before starting again. “I never thought I’d meet someone that I didn’t want to give up.” The archer half turned to view Jesse better. “What you are not understanding is when I said my boundaries… I meant it as a limitation. Not a challenge. I understand that you, for some reason, require physical contact, but I do not. And you don’t seem to care that it can make things very uncomfortable.”

Jesse waited to see if Hanzo was going to continue. When the pause seemed open enough for the cowboy to comment, he said, “In my defense, I have not done anything you told me not too. Yeah I push. But isn’t that what exploration is about? Finding what limits you have and push past them? And you certainly aren’t trying anything new.”

“That does not mean I want to be forced into a situation because of your impulses.”

“But how do you know you won’t like something if you don’t try it.”

“It’s not about knowing if I will like something. It’s about knowing whether or not I want such experiences. There must be something you know you do not want to do.”

“Hanzo, look at me.” Jesse gestured to the clothes he was wearing from head to toe. The silk shirt and fancy vest to the sharply creased pants. Even the uncomfortable leather loafers. He had left the jacket back at the hotel for the very same reason he put up a fuss at the shop. “I told you point blank that I don’t want to wear this get up. Yet here I am. If word got back to Deadlock, I’d be laughed at for years to come. But I did it. Because there are some things I don’t ever want to do, but being with you makes it worthwhile. I just wanted to get to know you more. Spend time together. And not with guns blazing. It’s not like you are the most talkative of fellows.”

The archer pursed his lips in thought. “You make a fair point. Though what do you think we have been doing for better part of a year?”

“Honestly? We’ve mainly been on those oddball missions of yours. Occasional small things because of those bets. And a lot of not talking to each other.”

“Has it really been that bad?”

“Near as I can figure. Not that I blame you, seeing as what happened to your father.” Other events were involved but that seemed the safest to bring up.

Hanzo leaned back against the bench. “Jesse, what do you want out of all this?”

“Haven’t I made that clear yet?” The cowboy twisted the Stetson. “You have got to be kidding me.” But the look of honest curiosity forced Jesse to swallow his next words. He sighed and ran his fingers inside hat’s brim. “Hanzo… I don’t know what to tell you.” Jesse dropped his head back against his shoulders. This was more difficult than he thought it was. “Man… the first time I saw you… Sour faced and everything, still thought you were the prettiest man I’d ever seen. I know pretty is not the word most guys like, but it’s true.”

“Is that really all you think about?”

“Hey. You asked.” Jesse chewed on his lip trying to figure out how to explain this to Hanzo. With everyone else it had been so easy. “Hanzo… I get that you don’t have the same experiences. But honestly, what you just told me don’t make any sense. Usually it’s all innately understood. A glance at the right time. That certain kind of smile where you just know. A touch in just the right way. And we get it. So it’s not the same with you. I admit it, I like the physical contact. It’s how I show I like you. But clearly I made you upset with it.”

“Clearly.” Hanzo deadpanned, though a hint of a smile reflected in his eyes. That man really was something else.

“I don’t know how we’re going to make this work. But this is what I’m looking for. Yeah the way you look got my attention. I’ve been ready to kiss you since you first smiled. That was when I knew you had something else inside that wasn’t the sour son of a yakuza boss. And I’ve been trying my damnedest to get to know that guy every since.” Jesse gave the archer his best smile, hoping to win the man over. “I would have tried to kiss you in Dorado if we hadn’t been interrupted.”

“If you had tried that in Mexico, I probably would have left you there.”

“Alright… so bad timing on that one. Doesn’t mean we can’t try again.”

“Jesse… Really?” Hanzo was giving him that look again. The one that said he was being an idiot. Jesse could only sigh and wait to be chewed out. “Let’s go back.” Hanzo slipped his hand into Jesse’s and stood, pulling Jesse with him. Not only did it surprise the cowboy it made him grin.

“I thought you were worried about the cameramen.” The cowboy pulled their hands up for emphasis. 

“They are going to be speculating already. They saw me leave the plane with you and Sombra. There will no doubt be pictures of us visiting the conference room floor. Don’t even get started on when they discover I only purchased three rooms. The only question is who will they start speculating with first. Sombra or you.” Hanzo managed a half smile. “Jesse, this thing between us… I’m not saying no. Just slow down.”

Jesse beamed down at the compact archer. Perfect proportions tucked neatly in the smooth folds of cloth. “In public? Now I know you’ve lost your mind.”

“No. I’ve just accepted that you need touch and I’ve decided not to let the opinion of others bother me. You will however keep to my boundaries.” The resolute ninja was back and giving Jesse the same glare as when dictating a nonnegotiable battle plan. The cowboy heaved the same frustrated sigh of acceptance he always did. It wasn’t to his liking, but it also wasn’t a bad plan either. “But your impulses aren’t always unwanted.” Hanzo quirked tinniest of smiles, savoring the shock value of his statement.

“You’re giving me encouragement. That can be a bad thing.” Jesse groaned around an indulgent smile of his own. The archer raised an eyebrow and was gearing up for a full-blown glare to call him an idiot. “But I get it. Pay better attention to boundaries. Keep public displays to a minimum. And nothing we haven’t already done. I can live with that for now. Sorry about not listening.” Apologizing for his behavior was not as difficult as he would have thought. Not when it meant he could still pursue what he had thought unattainable. Jesse stepped close. He dropped his hat back onto his head and gazed down at the shorter man he had taken a liking too. “You got one thing right. If boss found out about this, he would kill me.”

“Oh? Because you are dating another man?”

“No. Because I’m dating a rival.”

“And here I thought sleeping with the enemy was the best way of obtaining information.”

“He’d be more worried about what information I might leak. And we’re not exactly sleeping together yet.”

“And won’t for some time to come.”

“Don’t say that. Just means I’m going to be trying harder than usual.” Jesse let his right hand slide up Hanzo’s arm with only the faintest pressure. They still linked hands which encouraged the cowboy that he wasn’t going to be shut down.

The archer’s gaze was still fond even as he spoke a warning. “Jesse, remember what I said about not having any desire for those experiences? I still don’t. But I’m getting there.”

“Oh, darling, you shouldn’t have told me that.” Jesse cupped Hanzo’s cheek in his right hand and brushed his thumb along the smooth skin. The archer’s brow creased with confusion. All Jesse could do was chuckle. His imagination was already heading off the deep end. If this was indeed code for Hanzo’s lack of sexual activities, then the cowboy was done for. “‘Cause now that’s all I’m going to be thinking about.” He grinned down at the archer and his mind went to exactly how wonderful it would be when he finally got a hold of Hanzo for a night of pure pleasure. He was rewarded with a new look. One of exasperation mixed with amusement. If that look outnumbered the one calling him an idiot, Jesse would keep it. “One of these days I’m going to kiss you and you’re gonna wonder why you waited.”

Hanzo shook his head, the indulgent smile never left the archer’s face. “No. One of these days _I_ will kiss _you_ and you will understand why I waited.” The heir to the Shimada Clan tugged at Jesse’s left hand, knocking the cowboy out of his daze. “Now, let’s go. Sombra will be waiting up to ask where we’ve been.”

“Naw, she’ll bust in on us in the morning.” Jesse let go of Hanzo’s hand only to drop his arm across the archer’s shoulders. Now that Hanzo wasn’t pushing him away, he was going to push every chance he got. And if Hanzo wasn’t afraid of speculation then public displays had to be allowed now. Within limits. He was rewarded with an arm around his waist. “Out of curiosity, what were you going to do if we hadn’t reached a compromise?”

Hanzo displayed a heavily worn and frayed leather wallet in his left hand. Jesse recognized it but still his free hand flew check his back pocket. The ninja was giving him the broadest smug smile the cowboy had ever seen. “You would have had to explain to Zed or Sombra why you did not have access to our room. Primarily Sombra as Zed would have sent you there.” Groaning at the thought of having to explain anything to Sombra, Jesse plucked his wallet from the archer’s hand. Somehow he had found the two people in the world who could steal his wallet right from under his nose. That deserved respect.

{}}}}{{{{}

There was something to be said for an in suite expresso machine. Sombra cradled the warm cup of coffee in her hands as she enjoyed the view from the fifty third floor hotel room. Spectacular crystalline structures soared into the early morning sun. It was as if photons had taken permanent physical form. As the deep red of the morning sky shifted into a blue of the daytime sky, the hacker saw the sunlight refract off an invisible barrier. She cocked her head. Vishkar had talked about the potential of large scale energy barriers. But they made the concept sound like it was in its infancy. Could they already possess the ability to shield the entire city?

She had to find out. And if possible see the generators for her self.

When the sun officially rose above the horizon and the world bathed in the building heat of an equatorial spring, Sombra set her cup down and pranced across the hall. The boys had come back late and she had been patient enough already. A few flickers of her fingers and the electronic key opened right up. It was pathetically easy to hack into the hotel rooms. She waltzed through the bronze door.

“ _Buenos dias!”_ Sombra called brightly to an empty living room. Jesse’s hat and jacket had been tossed onto the chair. Hanzo’s was probably neatly put away in the room’s closet.

The bedroom was the only place left. Grinning, she pushed open the door. “Good morning, boys! So, what time did you finally come in?” The cowboy rolled from the bed closest to the door. Which meant the archer occupied the bed next to the balcony. These boys were such a disappointment. “Oo! Jesse!” She hissed.

“Sombra!” The groggy American cowboy rolled out of the bed wearing nothing but boxers. “When I said you were going to bust in, I didn’t think you’d actually bust in.”

“What? It’s not like you’re doing anything.” Sombra studied her silver nails as she wandered further into the room. “It’s time to get going.”

“What time is it anyway?” Jesse yawned.

Leaning against the dresser, the lithe hacker shuffled the water glasses on their crystal tray. “Breakfast time. What does it matter? You’d sleep all day if I didn’t bug you.”

“You can leave now.” Jesse shoved the little Mexican towards the door.

“Sombra?” In the quiet commotion Hanzo sat up in bed. Long black hair askew which he raked into a semblance of normalcy with his fingers. “It’s barely six in the morning.” 

“Not my fault you and Jesse came back after three.” 

The yakuza boss scion sighed and dropped back into the bed, disappearing into the plush white bedding. Not before Sombra saw that he wore sky-blue satin, long sleeved pajamas. Apparently nothing was still happening. What would it take to get these two idiots together?

“You’re mine tonight, Hanzo.” Jesse called from the balcony still shirtless and smoking one of the cigarettes she and Zed snuck through customs. And she still hadn’t heard a thank you from the ungrateful biker. See if she did anything for him in the future.

Sombra’s eyes flickered between the two men. Curiosity got her. “What’s that supposed to mean?” That statement made no sense. And when things did not make sense she would find the truth. It clearly did not mean anything in regards to sleeping arrangements.

“It means he knows you better than I do.” Hanzo groaned as he finally got out of the golden lotus imprinted bedspread. “And you will have to wait until tomorrow when we return to Hanamura. Tonight is the banquet.”

Jesse wrinkled his nose at the thought. “Can’t we just do something else?”

“No.” Sombra gave the biker a pointed look. She had plans. “You’re dancing with me tonight.”

“I don’t know how to dance.”

“Exactly. You’re going to dance with me so that next time you can dance with him.” She motioned to the ninja disappearing into the bathroom. One way or another she was getting these two together. Whether they wanted help or not. Genji would be proud.

“I don’t dance, Sombra,” Hanzo called as he closed the door.

“You should.” She called back, making her way to the balcony. Turning to the half naked cowboy the hacker scowled. “Alright Jesse, spill.”

“What?” Wisps of smoke coiled into the stale morning air.

“What. Happened. It’s not like I’m speaking highly complicated computer code right now. How did you two go out for an evening and end up in separate beds?”

“Nothing. We talked. That’s it. Why?”

“Talked?”

“Yeah, talked.” Sombra tilted her head towards the cowboy. Jesse gave her a wide shrug in response. “It’s none of your business anyway.”

“You made it my business when you complained about not getting anywhere.”

A door closed and both of them turned towards Hanzo. The Shimada heir had pulled his hair back, removing any sign of sleep on his person. “Alright, Sombra. We’re up. We’ll go downstairs in twenty minutes. You can leave now.”

“Got it. But you might want to watch the morning news first.” Sombra grin and waved her fingers at the display. The images flickered quickly until settling on a worldwide news organization. So she did have other motives for invading their room at this ungodly hour following their late night. It was to prepare them for the morning press and their questions. It was for their own good.

Hanzo sighed. “Sombra, there is a remote for that.” 

The hacker shrugged and waggled her fingers at him. The newscasters were speaking anyway. Sombra didn’t want to interrupt. _”In tech news the World’s Fair in Utopaea, India has a fantastic showing of inventions and promises for the future. The introduction of the Vishkar Corporation’s hard light technology shows us the possibilities for architecture and solution to the world’s overcrowded cities. We look forward to this new way of construction to come to market. Vishkar projects another year until they start making bids. They are already looking at the overpopulated districts in Calcutta, Shanghai, and Buenos Aires as potential redevelopment sites. But the surprise of the fair seems to be the arrival of the eldest son to the Japanese business tycoon Sojiro Shimada. Hanzo Shimada was seen in close conversation with the Vishkar representatives. It is unknown as to what Shimada is planning, anything from new investments to a partnership in manufacturing. The tech world is eager to learn why this reclusive financier has chosen now to step technology.”_

 _“Thank you, Sabura. That is quite the surprise. We will have to follow the entertainment segments to learn more about his activities there at the Fair.”_ The news feed cut off as Hanzo found the remote. 

“And this is why my family and I are reclusive.” The ninja sighed. “But it did get the desired effect of showing Talon that we are not devastated by their attack.”

“Hanzo, you need to loosen up.” Sombra groaned. “It’s not like their speculation is going to bring down your empire.”

“No. But it could bring more eyes on my family then we really want to deal with. Now, we’ll see you in twenty minutes for breakfast.”

“Fine!” Sombra rolled her eyes and waltzed towards the door. “Twenty minutes. And Jesse I expect the whole story by lunch.”

“Sombra! You don’t need to know.” Jesse threw a large white pillow in her direction as she laughed it off. She had no hard feelings. Not if it kept the thought in their brains. She would see this through one way or another. Grinning Sombra trotted down to the lobby to get breakfast. It was early but the maitre ‘d Omnic liked her. She sat at the bar enjoying seltzer and orange juice as she waited for her friends to come downstairs. Sombra didn’t expect them in twenty minutes. Probably closer to half an hour to an hour. Getting Jesse into the suit took time.

After that it was a day of new technology and gathering info. Just because she wasn’t stealing anything didn’t mean she couldn’t know how everything worked. It would give her the foundation for creating new tech for herself. Ones that Hanzo would end up paying for. After all how was she supposed to figure out what Talon was planning without better tech.

And her research into Akande Ogundimu had gathered quite a bit of damning evidence. Not that she would be able to use it against him. The authorities did not usually deal with criminal warfare. So long as civilians didn’t get hurt. Nor did they trust anything that came from other criminals. They were predictable that way. Across all continents. Even Overwatch couldn’t touch the illegal trade organizations. 

It was rather hilarious that Overwatch thought that they could take down the Shimadas after failing horribly with Deadlock. Still they warranted a close eye. Sombra had found at least two of their agents wandering around the conference floor. They didn’t have anything interesting to add. Probably just wandering around looking for trouble. The communications that Sombra had overheard mentioned that they did not expect anything from Akande or Hanzo, but they were watching. Nothing Sombra couldn’t handle.

}{{{}}}{ 

Glittering chandeliers crowned the ballroom, casting out brilliant showers of lights. The banquet tables laden with foods of all varieties. But the colors. In a place where the white reigned supreme it was as if a prism finally broke the pure light into a rainbow. Women wearing gowns of every color. Men more muted but every hue in their dress shirts. 

Sombra grinned as she hugged Jesse’s arm. Never in her wildest dreams had she imagined being in a place like this. She thought spying on the rich and corrupted through the window of the net was all she could expect. Now she was in the middle of their event. The stuff she could dig up simply by being in the same room with them. This was going to be a field day.

“Don’t look so happy, Jesse.” Sombra nudged the scowling cowboy in the ribs. He had insisted on wearing the black Stetson and belt buckle. The hacker doubted anyone could convince the biker to forego that bit of decoration. She had found a rather attractive bolo tie with an abstract gold clasp and onyx stone to coordinate with the brilliant crimson silk shirt. It made everything else about the cowboy fit with these social elites. Hanzo had managed to work his magic and got the stubborn biker to wear the leather strap necktie.

The cowboy’s frown deepened. “Why do I get caught up in these things?”

“It will be fun. It will be more fun when you can actually dance with him. Come on,” Sombra motioned to the billionaire heir a few steps ahead, then tugged him onto the dance floor. Her own emerald sequenced gown sparkled with the movement. She absolutely adored it. It took a few moments to explain the basic hand positions. The footwork was more complicated. Eventually Jesse fell into step with a basic waltz. “You know, I bet Hanzo knows how to lead.”

“Sombra, he says he doesn’t dance.”

“So. Just means he hasn’t had the right partner or right occasion. But he didn’t say he didn’t know how. A guy like that, he would have learned.” Sombra glanced over to where the Shimada descendant was chatting politely with the Indian Prime Minister. His deep cobalt blue suit shimmered in the dancing lights. Hair pulled back in a flowing gold scarf to match the billowing cravat with metallic gold embroidery. Barely noticeable at this distance were the golden cufflinks displaying the twin dragons of the ancient clan. The ninja was stunning. Jesse had better appreciate the sight.

The cowboy turned with the music. He wasn’t that bad. “I doubt we’ll ever have another opportunity.” Yet his eyes hardly ever left the young businessman. Sombra wasn’t going to argue the point. She was just here to enjoy the night. “Why are we here again?”

“To have fun of course. I didn’t think you were so sheltered.”

“Not my idea of a good time.”

Sombra playfully stuck her tongue out at the gunslinger.“You’re the absolute worst.” When the song changed to something faster, the hacker sighed but gamily guided Jesse through the basic footsteps. “Though I never took you for the kind that liked to hang on someone’s arm while they did all the talking. Of course if you would prefer that, I’ll let you go be a wallflower. All Hanzo is doing is making good with the politicians and business elites. He’ll come out of here with at least three in his pocket owing him favors.”

“Are you listening in on them?” Jesse eyed her cautiously, as if he didn’t know whether to be impressed or worried.

“Of course. Why else do you think I wanted to come in the first place? In this room we have the Indian Prime Minister, Pakistan’s President, the Premier of China, America’s Secretary of State because they have to be different, and the Princess of Wales. Not to mention the heads of the major businesses that control the world. Vishkar, LumeriCo, EliteOrtho to name a few of the ones I have an interest in. All of them are talking with the governments and planning on how to get their products into the countries with little to no tariffs. Or how to obtain resources at reduced costs. And all of them are making deals. Some not so legal. Others not so friendly. And I know how to use every bit of it.”

“Do you ever stop?”

“Nope. If I did, then I wouldn’t know that Akande is making inroads with war ravaged Russia. A promotion to give children replacement limbs for charity if the government uses his company for the prosthetics for Russian soldiers. A rather lucrative deal. And a great publicity.”

“Wonderful. How does that help figure out how to destroy Talon?”

“It doesn’t. But it does help me figure out how to destroy Akande. Eventually. Now, keep up. You’ll have a lot of fun with this dance once you learn it.” Sombra grinned as tango music started. With much amusement, she took Jesse through the steps. Give him a few more weeks of practice and he might actually make a decent dance partner. For now it kept others from interrupting her surveillance of the crowd while still letting her enjoy the party. She had hidden various listening devices in the charms that decorated her updo. These had the ability to amplify sounds whichever direction and distance she directed them. Jewelry might not be her favorite thing but it did come in handy.

“Sombra? Who’s that talking to the Indian Prime Minister now?” Jesse jutted his chin in the direction of the tall slender woman in the violet and gold sari. They turned on the floor so the little Mexican could see.

The man was short and dark skinned, but Sombra could not identify him any other way. No name came up during the conversation about the beauty of the decorations, though the Prime Minister seemed to know him. “I don’t know.” She hated not knowing. And she didn’t have her computers easily available to research the unknown. “Why?”

“I got a bad feeling about him. He looks nervous.”

“Wouldn’t you be if you were talking to a head of state?”

“That’s just it. He shouldn’t be. He’s not important enough for you to know about him, so why?”

“You’re being paranoid, Jesse.”

“Being paranoid usually keeps me alive.” Jesse’s eyes did not leave the man in question. The growing scowl on the cowboy’s face meant he was trying to think.

Sombra made the decision to investigate. “Alright, but we need to head off the floor so I can access my computers.” Jesse gave a single nod. Together they made their way to the banquet table so Sombra could fish out a small holographic projector to start her research. For as often as she used these computers, she really needed to make them more accessible.

Before she could even open the first screen unmistakable gunfire reverberated through the ballroom. Sombra stared wide eyed at the pristine blue flecked tile that was now six inches from her nose. A strong arm held her in place. She struggled to stand only to have the arm push down harder. “Stay down.” Jesse ordered roughly. Suddenly she was aware of screaming and stampeding feet.

“What…?”

Jesse filled her in with what he had seen. Sombra craned her neck to try and glimpse the room. All she could see was a flurry of legs and dresses scampering for an exit. “Assassination. Prime Minister of India is down. But there were two shots. I don’t know who the other target was.” Slowly the cowboy released his hold on her and they sat back against the wall. Military boots echoed over the panicked chatter. The Utopaean police had arrived. Their shouts rang over the chaos at first in Hindi then in English. That was the one language they all shared. They were trying to direct people towards an the exit.

“How do you know there were two shots?”

“The pistol that guy used to kill the Prime Minister doesn’t sound like a small rocket. That came from a high powered rifle. Most likely a Harold 743-V.”

“How would you know that?”

“They have a distinctive sound. And they’re the most favored sniper rifle on the market right now.” Though the gunslinger answered her question, his eyes were scanning the crowd, searching. Sombra knew who he was looking for.

“He was last by the eastern stain-glass window.” Then suddenly Jesse had her arm in a vice grip, dragging her towards the window. As much as she wanted to find Hanzo, she really would prefer getting out of the area before the next shot came. But that was before she saw the massive metal back in the torn black dress coat. Sparks flew from the exposed circuits. She recognized the silver metal with the circular etchings at the base of the skull. Zed. The Omnic wakaishou was down. Sombra couldn’t move as she made this realization. Only the muscular shove from Jesse forced her feet to function. 

“Hanzo!” Terror filled the biker’s voice.

Right. The Shimada heir. He wasn’t visible in the thinning crowd. Sombra’s heart shuddered at the thought. It had to be impossible. They could not have lost Zed and Hanzo. So maybe she hadn’t completely forgiven him for what he had done to Genji, but that did not mean she wanted him out of her life for good. He had potential. Dumbly she stared down at the silent Omnic who had kept them company for so many months.

“I’m here.” Hanzo’s voice came from under the broad metal torso. It was strained. Of course it was. Omnics were heavy. And Zed was particularly well armored. “Is it clear?”

“No.” Jesse grunted. The cowboy crouched to pull the unmoving Omnic from where he covered the ninja. “Judging by the shot, I’d say the sniper was out the west window. But that could have changed by now. Are you alright?”

“Yes. No harm came to me.” The archer started to push against the mass above him as Jesse pulled. The two men were too busy with the physical labor to notice the flash of Zed’s diodes as he landed on the tiles.

Sombra immediately jumped into action. There was still a chance. “Zed! Hang on.” If only she had all of her equipment. Still her wireless interface might be useful. No one had ever saved an Omnic’s memory from the destruction of the hardware. But she had to try. Maybe reroute a few circuits until Zed could rebuild his hard drives. Give a safety net for his consciousness.

“Sombra,” Jesse’s warm hand enveloped her bare shoulder. She sniffed and ran a hand across her blurry vision. Sombra refused to let this be the end. The more she tried to focus on the coding, the worse the tears became. She just needed more time. The grip on her shoulder tightened gently. “Zed?” Jesse’s confused call brought Sombra’s attention to how the bodyguard’s diodes lit up with more stability. Was it actually working? “Thank you for keeping him safe. I’ll take it from here.” A slight nod of the silver head then Zed’s chest opened, popping buttons and ripping the white dress shirt.

It had taken some reworking of Zed’s structure to create this hidden compartment. But with Sombra’s help they had made this one place safe from detection. Inside was McCree’s revolver. There had also been just enough space for a pack of cigarettes, a lighter and a switchblade. Now Jesse removed the handgun and blade with such reverence rarely seen by even the most pious monk. Only then did the diode light fade completely. Her codes had failed. They had lost the Omnic. The cowboy even tenderly closed the compartment to allow Zed to rest in peace.

Sombra sat back on her heels hugging her torso tightly. This was just supposed to be a fun trip. A chance to get out of the castle, see the latest tech before it came to market. No one was supposed to get hurt. Their precautions with the revolver was just supposed to be overly vigilant. Neither she nor Hanzo actually thought anything would happen in the hyper protective city of Utopaea. 

An oversized jacket landed across her shoulders and she pulled it close. Above her the boys were talking. Her brain barely comprehended their conversation as she gazed mournfully at the Omnic.

“There are only six bullets,” Hanzo stated, checking the switchblade for any flaws.

“Then I’ll make sure each one counts. And hopefully not need to use any.” The cylinder clicked shut indicating the gunslinger was satisfied. “Sombra, we need a way out.” Sombra knew she heard the man but the words did not make it past her ears. The dull roar of the retreating crowd competed with Jesse’s voice. “Sombra! We need an exit.”

“Right.” Coming to her senses the lithe hacker thrust her arms through the sleeves of the jacket and set to accessing the hotel’s blueprints on her holographic display. Zed had simply been doing his job. Now it was up to her to do her job. “The quickest exit is through the main doors. That’s where they are taking the crowd.”

“If I were the sniper, that’s where I would get my next target,” Hanzo frowned. “It’s hard to hide in a crowd out in the open.” 

“I was thinking someplace more defensible,” Jesse studied the ballroom.The authorities had cordoned off the area around the late Prime Minister. The nervous man lay dead nearby. “With no windows.” Sombra set about trying to find such a place.

“Hey! You can’t have that here!” A man in a Utopaean police uniform finally noticed the trio sheltering in an alcove. They had seen the revolver.

Hanzo Shimada straightened imperially, though did not step in front of Jesse’s gun. “My bodyguard is dead. By your own mandate I am afforded proper security during my stay. We will return the weapon to a secure locker when you have neutralized the sniper terrorizing us.” The officers hesitated at that statement. Sombra thought she heard a quiet snort from McCree. In the silence a distant gunshot ricocheted through the halls. Everyone ducked. “I will be using my own protection until that is resolved.” Hanzo vaguely pointed to the outside where the sniper lurked.

“Sombra, a defensible position.” McCree returned her attention back to the blue prints.

“Got one. But it only has one way in or out.”

“It will do for now.” Jesse scanned the scene, particularly the windows, for any sign of the sniper. “Which way?”

“Back corridors, to the right of the stage.” Sombra stood and wrapped the jacket around her fully. As lovely as the dress was, it was not meant for running. Kicking off her green velvet heels, she prepared for an escape. Hanzo was first motioning for the others to follow. She was right behind, giving directions. McCree took up the rear though his eyes and head never stayed still. The halls were clear of people. Only discarded food and drink trays or trash bags remained from the staff’s evacuation. They were the only idiots left in this part of the building. When Sombra gave the final directions, Hanzo stopped and raised an eyebrow. “What? Only one way in, surrounded by load bearing walls, right next to a stairwell. And the outside is straight down that hall to the back loading dock. And there is even a ventilation duct large enough for Jesse to squeeze through. So unless you know of anything that can travel through concrete and steel, this is it.”

“A men’s restroom…” Apparently the rich ninja had never had to duck for cover in the nearest doorway. And as far as toilets went, this place was fantastic.

Sombra shrugged. “The women’s is one more down so take your pick.”

“This will do.” Jesse shoved them both through the L shaped entrance. Sombra immediately leaned against a urinal and opened her computers. Hanzo checked the stalls to ensure they were alone. Thankfully none of the employees wanted to shelter in place. McCree took position at the entrance, watching the hall in the narrow band of sight allowed by the walls. “What I don’t understand is why they were gunning for you. Talon wouldn’t be that stupid, would they?”

“We do not know that it was Talon.”

“Well, unless you got other bold and dangerous political enemies, Talon pretty much fits.”

“I doubt I was the primary target. More like a target of opportunity. India’s Prime Minister is dead. And possibly someone else. That means a change in leadership to which someone will benefit.” The archer frowned. “What I don’t understand is why the World’s Fair?”

“A bunch of important people grouped together at one time. Sounds like a sniper’s dream,” Jesse chuckled.

“But the techniques required to smuggle in our contraband past security was beyond intense. Imagine what it would take to bring in a sniper rifle.”

“Are you suggesting an inside job?” Sombra pursed her lips, mind puzzling through the barriers Hanzo had mentioned. Even as her fingers filtered through the pandemonium in communications the threat caused. “Oh, the Premier of China was wounded.” Sombra shared. “Looks like the authorities are clearing out large areas of the city, trying to find the sniper.”

The gunslinger dropped back against the wall. Heedless of the fine ballroom attire. “I bet the sniper is long gone now.”

“So we just wait until the police do a sweep of the building?” Sombra asked.

“Beats putting a target on our heads by stepping out of the hotel.” McCree did have a point there. Sighing Sombra continued to search for reports from the outside. Police movements were easy to track via their radios. The private security details of the various heads of state were a bit trickier but manageable. With all the noise she was having difficulty finding the frequency the Sniper used. That was if the Sniper communicated at all. It would be highly unusual if he didn’t.

An absent thought entered her head as she browsed the transmissions. “Jesse? Did you really just promise Zed that you’d protect Hanzo?” It was worth it to see the faint flush in the cowboy’s cheeks. “Ooo! You really are a knight in shining armor!”

“I don’t see what that’s got to do with anything. I think you’ve been reading too many fairytales.”

“More like King Arthur legends, but basically the same.” The lithe hacker waved it off, grinning.

Hanzo interrupted. “Perhaps we should keep some perspective on the situation. We’re in the men’s restroom hiding from a sniper.” They all paused to reflect on how dangerous their position really was. At least until the reality set it. They were hiding out in a staff only restroom dressed in some of the most expensive cloth the world had to offer. Joking about chivalry.

McCree broke first. He snorted then devolved into chuckles. Sombra joined at the thought of how absurd their circumstances had become. They had come to the conference to get away from these very dangers and now were stuck in the middle of one not of their choosing. Life really wasn’t fair. Eventually even the uptight Shimada broke into a half smile and soft chuckle. That’s when Sombra was sure. The three of them would make it.


	14. Against the Patriarchy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Hanzo challenges authority and it's time for a vacation

**Chapter Fourteen: Against the Patriarchy**

Three hours. It took three hours before the Utopaean authorities established an all clear. During that time Hanzo leaned against the slate gray stall divider intensely focused on his phone. Sombra continued to lean against the urinal, probably because it was a better height than sitting on the sinks, her fingers flying across those holographic screens of hers. McCree didn’t know what either were doing, but he suspected it involved learning about what was going on beyond their makeshift hideout. His job was to keep an eye on the entrance. One way in, one way out. And no sign of movement in the hall beyond. Boring could be a good thing. 

“Oo! Looks like the police are finally doing a sweep of the hotel.” Sombra chirped from her unorthodox perch. 

“Can you locate them?” Jesse called over his shoulder, edging further into the opening. It gave him a better view of the hall, but also made him more of a target. Then again, if the all clear was true, he would not have to worry about a sniper taking a shot.

“Hmm… Main force is of course coming in through the main entrance.” Sombra pushed away from the urinal to stand at his shoulder. Her screens leading the way. “But there does seem to be a smaller force entering through the loading docks. So we’ll see them first.

“About time.” Hanzo grumbled towards his phone. He was still typing and that left Jesse wondering who the ninja was communicating with. Though the cowboy agreed with the archer completely. It was past time for an all clear. They could only handle so much time cooped up in a small space.

Still it was fifteen minutes later before the stomp of boots filled the halls. “Heat signatures detected to the left.” An Omnic’s mechanical voice simulator announced.

“This is the Utopaean police!” This one was a human female voice. “The sniper is no longer active. We’re here to escort civilians from their shelter for medical aid if needed.” From behind McCree, Hanzo snorted in distain. The man was probably rolling his eyes at the claim. Neither one applied to them and it wasn’t like they were the ones scared shitless. Hanzo probably wanted to go after the sniper, only problem was lack of weapons. “Please keep your hands away from your body and exit.”

“Badge out first, if you don’t mind,” Jesse drawled, his revolver before him though angled down. He was trying to avoid being seen as a threat after all. But they couldn’t be too careful. Just never knew when the enemy would pretend to be the authorities to gain access to restricted spaces. 

A humanoid Omnic with the navy blue and pearl white uniform of the police took the lead around the bend. In its hand was the shiny brass badge identifying it as belonging to the Utopaean Police. Sombra pulled herself around Jesse’s bulk to get a good look. “Looks legit. Can I have one?” Jesse sighed and lowered his revolver completely. It was rather anticlimactic to walk out without firing a shot, but this was the outcome they had wanted. None of them were prepared to go into a shootout with a sniper.

McCree led the way out of their hideout. A team of seven police officers, two Omnics and five humans. When Hanzo emerged, the female with the most golden tassels signifying rank straightened. “Mr. Shimada. It is good to see that you are safe.”

“Thank you, Captain.” The ninja readjusted his shimmering blue suit as if he had not just waltzed out of the fancy staff restroom. “An employee of mine was not so fortunate. I would appreciate it if you could arrange for someone to prepare him for transport.”

“Of course, sir.” The woman nodded. Her eyes then focused on the black revolver in Jesse’s hands. There was no way he was giving it up. “Sir. The gun still goes against regulation.”

“I will secure it once we reach our room, Captain,” Hanzo’s tone was firm and final. He had clearly chosen to take control of the situation rather than submit to the ridiculous rules of Utopaea. His determined strides threatened to leave the rest of them behind as he ended the conversation. Sombra and Jesse quickly stepped up behind him.

“Evert, make sure they arrive safely.”

“Yes, ma’am.” One of the younger male policemen trotted after them. Jesse glanced over his shoulder, uncomfortable with the shadow. Repeatedly reminding himself that he was not about to get arrested was the only thing that kept his agitation in check. That and Hanzo’s confidence. It really was amazing at how the man could command a room of strangers with the pitch of his voice and posture of his body.

The elevator ride was in tense silence. Or maybe it was just Jesse and the officer. Sombra actually looked bored. Hanzo determined. Upon arriving to their floor, Hanzo immediately started spouting directions. “Sombra, I’m sorry to ask this of you, but could you collect Zed’s belongings once you have packed your own. We will join you as soon as we have packed ours. McCree, there is a lockbox where you will keep your revolver for the time being. We will then be heading to the airport immediately after. I have a transport from one of my family’s companies coming to take us home. I’m sure Officer Evert won’t mind escorting us there.”

“But your statements, sir.” Evert protested.

The Shimada heir abruptly turned to glower at the policeman. For a man of short stature he lorded it over the young man easily. “You have our contact information. You may receive them via video conference. It is obvious your security is not what you intended it to be. We are leaving this city tonight. Is that understood?”

“Yes, sir. I’ll contact Captain Saluja with this information. And request that she escort your employee to the airport once preparations are finished.” The poor man looked stressed. Hanzo did know how to be intimidating.

“Thank you.” Then things were back to normal. Hanzo opened the door to their room and left it open. Of course, Jesse had never seen a retreat handled in such a forceful way. And there was no way around claiming that this wasn’t a retreat. They didn’t know who had fired the shot nor where the sniper went. Hanzo might not be running scared, but he was playing it safe for the time being. “McCree,” the sharp call from the archer forced the gunslinger to refocus his attention. “Your revolver.” In the heir’s hands was the silver briefcase with lock. Jesse scowled at the object, loathed to give up his weapon. He was about to refuse and give Hanzo a piece of his mind when the ninja arched an eyebrow at him expectantly. 

McCree bit the inside of his cheek to hold his words in. Refuting Hanzo’s authority in front of a stranger that Hanzo had cowed would ruin the effect. He narrowed his eyes in frustration and snatched the case and key away from the ninja. He was not being an idiot. He was keeping their safety foremost in his mind. That switchblade Hanzo had up his sleeve would not do much against the pistol on the officer’s hip. Or the rifle still out there. Locking up his revolver pained him. As it did every time Shimada enforced that rule. It was like cutting off a piece of himself. McCree pocketed the key the moment the case was closed. Hanzo simply nodded and turned to pack as if nothing important had happened. 

Hanzo’s bags were packed neatly and Jesse’s carelessly jammed full with his belongings. They found Sombra in Zed’s room putting what little the Omnic had brought into the small briefcase. He was an Omnic. He didn’t require much. The hacker had changed from the ballgown into simple slacks and emerald collared shirt. She still wore Jesse’s oversized jacket. Jesse let her keep it. He didn’t need anything else burdening his hands right then. He already had the majority of his and Hanzo’s luggage. Which he would complain about once they got on the plane.

“Mr. Shimada.” A new voice from down the hall interrupted their group. A hotel concierge and a bellboy with trolly approached them. “I am sorry to hear you are leaving so soon. Is there anything I can do to assist you?”

“Just the transport of our luggage to the limo. Thank you, Mr. Patel. Your hospitality has been excellent. It is a misfortune that we must leave. I have greatly enjoyed the conference and the amenities. It is through no fault of your hotel that I must depart.” And just like that Hanzo transformed from the ruthless authoritarian to gracious businessman. The transformation was amazing. “I hope you will extend my disappointment that the Fair was interrupted so tragically to the Vishkar representatives and the government officals.”

“Of course, Mr. Shimada. And our condolences for the loss of Zed. He was a fine individual.” The hotel man did look truly sorry, but McCree still believed it was more from loosing a wealthy guest than the loss of an Omnic. He handed over all of Hanzo’s bags but kept his duffle and the silver briefcase containing his revolver. No one had to know that he had conveniently failed to lock it. Easier to get into incase of emergency. 

“Again, my thanks.” Hanzo nodded politely. “I will pass on your thoughts to his friends and family.” And that was the end of courteous conversation. The young yakuza boss in training stalked towards the elevator, expecting everyone to follow. 

The rest was tense silence from the elevator to the limo. While the police officer escorted them, Jesse’s friends were annoyingly quiet. They fiddled with their electronics, communicating or reviewing the news. Leaving Jesse to scowl at the stranger interrupting their dynamic. And it lasted all the way to the airport. It wasn’t until they were all onboard the potbellied transport that Hanzo relaxed. No luxury private airplane this time. He must have wanted to leave pronto. Jesse couldn’t say he was thrilled with the arrangement. But he would suffer through it. Their luggage shared tie downs with the coffin containing Zed. It was definitely not a joyous return.

Once seated Hanzo’s hand found its way into Jesse’s left. He glanced over but the man looked on the verge of falling asleep. On Jesse’s other side, Sombra pulled the men’s dress coat up to her neck like a blanket and dropped her head to the gunslinger’s right shoulder. Soon her soft breaths accompanied the archer’s. It had been a long night. Jesse took a few long slow breaths and gently squeezed Hanzo’s hand as the plane took off. Even if every bump and rattle of turbulence irritated Jesse, it was comforting to have his friends with him. He knew he wasn’t going to get much sleep. Not like the other two. So he continued to watch over them between his own brief naps.

{}}}}{{{{}

Glancing at the message from his father yet again left dread pooling in the bottom of Hanzo’s stomach. A lead weight sinking his soul into the pits of Hades. _*See me immediately upon your arrival.*_ Not even Jesse’s well meaning nudge could break the dismal spell over him. The heir to the Shimada Clan reluctantly trudged through the hall of his home towards the library where his father waited.

“You want us to go with you?” Jesse asked before they turned down the final corner.

Hanzo gathered his courage with a deep breath. “No. That will probably enrage him further.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” the cowboy tried to bolster his spirit yet again. It was sweet, but there really wasn’t anything the man could do to help.

“That does not matter. The outing cost us a valuable wakaishou with nothing to show for it.”

The gunslinger pulled his hat low, covering the glower overtaking his easygoing smile. “I wouldn’t call your life nothing.”

“Zed was doing his job.” Sombra spoke up from Hanzo’s other side. “Don’t belittle his death by claiming it was all for nothing. Plus, I wouldn’t call this nothing.” The hacker flicked a small disk into the air, forcing Hanzo to catch it. He must have looked confused because the little Mexican started chuckling. “It’s everything I found on Akande, his links to the raiders of Numbani, the gauntlet he uses, and a few more tidbits about his link to Talon. All thanks to hacking into his communications and private computers.” She grinned fearlessly. “Make good use of it alright, amigo.”

A tiny flicker of hope took root as Hanzo felt a slow smile ease onto his face. She had just given him the best ammunition ever for his dreaded encounter. “I will endeavor to do so.” He gave her a modest bow in appreciation. Armed with this new information, Hanzo turned the corner ready to face his father. He had two strong willed individuals supporting him, yet this was his father. The man he was supposed to follow. 

The two of them were supposed to be working seamlessly to bridge the command of the Shimada Clan. This was the first time Hanzo felt as if he had overreached his authority. He had suffered through countless lectures before, but never the outright disapproval he confronted the moment he entered the library. He had been striving his whole life to be exactly what his father wanted or needed in an heir. With a respectful bow towards the Clan leader, Hanzo covered his own nervous swallow.

 _”I see you encountered unexpected trouble while in Utopaea.”_ Sojiro poured tea from the white porcelain teapot with the detailed blue dragon while Hanzo knelt before him at the low table. _”I have already passed on our condolences and gratitude to Zed’s family. They understood the dangers he was entering into and accepted it. And also expressed that they were glad his death could save your life. Now explain to me why it had to happen.”_ The leader of the Shimada Clan spoke calmly though displeasure leaked into his words. 

Though it was only his father in this room, Hanzo felt the weight of the entire council riding behind the older man’s words. The loss of any be it soldier or family had to be accounted for. _”The primary targets appeared to be the heads of state. The Indian Prime Minister and the Premier of China died from that attack. The Princess of Wales suffered severe injuries.”_ This was nothing new. Sojiro had already watched the news and this would have blanketed all channels. _“We are certain that Talon was behind these assassinations. Akande had a presence there. And he was nowhere to be found when the police were clearing the civilians. We had a minor confrontation with him on arrival. He seemed annoyed that we were able to expel his attack. So I am fairly certain that I was not the first choice in targets, simply a convenient opportunity. I placed too much reliance on the Utopaean restrictions. But with everything we knew at the time, I still believe my choices were within tolerance. Considering everything we have learned since, I believe that someone connected to either the Indian Government or to Vishkar assisted the entry of the sniper.”_

Hanzo had to wait in uncomfortable silence while his father sipped tea and considered everything he had said. The archer had to believe that he had done everything possible to bend the situation to their favor. In his fist was the data chip from Sombra. The labor of a hacker on a mission. She had preformed admirably. Done more than he even knew she was capable of. He could not fault her for the loss of Zed. Nor would he allow anyone else to should they learn of her attempts to save him.

 _”That is a troubling thought.”_ ” Sojiro finally muttered. _”Have you set anyone the task of learning if this is true?”_

_”Sombra and Ren are already taking the task. All possible footage of the sniper had been wiped so not even the Utopaean Police are able to research the identity of the sniper.”_

_”Interesting.”_ His father set down his teacup to meet Hanzo’s eyes with a fearsome directness. The elder Shimada son would not like what the man had to say. _”In light of the current situation, it would be best if you stayed in Hanamura for the time being. We need to evaluate Talon’s objectives. I cannot risk you to their opportunistic tendencies.”_

Hanzo frowned. _”Father, I have to disagree with that. For me to remain here will change nothing. We have already seen that they were capable of amassing an invasion force under our own surveillance. If Talon wants to harass us, they will do so regardless of where we are set up or who steps beyond our territory.”_

 _”Do you not care about the risks? I cannot have the best choice to take over for me succumb to carelessness.”_ So that was it. Hanzo scowled. His father was worried about his legacy. Having lost Genji, he was now paranoid at loosing Hanzo too. He had seen this behavior shortly after the motorcycle accident. Overprotective. Denying the very activities that could turn the tables on the aggressive Talon organization.

Tightening his fist around the all important disk, Hanzo steeled himself for the rest of this difficult conversation. _”It was not carelessness. Snipers are by their very definition a surprise element. There is very little to defend against them until they show themselves. Zed, McCree, and Sombra did everything they were supposed to following the first shot. And it was the right decision to step beyond this village following Talon’s attack. They needed to know that we are not terrified of them. That we will continue.”_

 _”And we will continue. But you will not be leading the way. There comes a time when you must be the one to make the decisions rather than be the one seeking action. Your place is here.”_ Sojiro’s voice was firm, trying to be the final word in this argument. Hanzo would not have it.

 _”On that I disagree. We have discovered more about Talon and Overwatch’s motives during this outing than any of our stationary hackers combined.”_ He pressed the chip onto the lacquered table with his forefinger. _”Talon and Overwatch have been able to get the jump on us because we have been stagnant. Relying on defensive reconnaissance. This is more on Akande than anything we have ever been able to accomplish before. And this was not the intension of our outing.”_ Hanzo watched with some satisfaction at the surprise on his father’s face. He released the chip once the oyabun reached for it. The heir to the Shimada Clan watched as consideration entered into his father’s eyes.

 _”This is considerable.”_ Rare praise. But unlikely to be enough to change the man’s mind. _”Then you may set up McCree and Sombra with Sora. Him and his team should be able to keep those two out of trouble.”_

 _”That will not work. Los Muertos and Deadlock have become used to the current set up. They have so far been contented with the information and warnings we have been able to provide them. Imagine their perception of the Clan should we set up their representatives with a different watchdog. You should have set them up with Sora to begin with and not allow them access to the leaders of the Clan. This demotion will have their leaders ready to break ties with us. Derailing our efforts to shut down Talon.”_ Hanzo knew this was dangerous territory when he saw his father’s eyes narrow. If anyone else had brought up this matter, Sojiro would have shut them down immediately. But because it came from his own son, he started to understand the effect of such a decision. Hanzo had been with these two the longest and understood them better than any other ninja in the Clan. This observation was Hanzo’s trump card. 

_”When I set you up to watch over those delinquents, I did not give you permission to go gallivanting around the world trying to get yourself killed. You had better not be letting your relationship with that biker cloud your judgement._

Hanzo bristled at the description of his friends. _”Of course I am not. The benefit of the Clan comes first. But it was probably my friendship with McCree that saved our Clan from Talon’s invasion. And my friendship with Sombra that gave us any warning at all. These relationships cannot be discounted.”_

 _”And you’re willing to risk everything for a tiny bit of surveillance?”_ Sojiro arched his eyebrow at the ridiculousness of the thought. In one respect if Hanzo died the Shimada Clan did not have anyone immediately capable of replacing the aging and dying leader. In another, Hanzo felt certain that keeping this combination together could solidify their alliance and thwart any efforts by Overwatch or Talon to take down their empire. The Pacific would become a place out of reach by all.

_”It is not a ‘tiny bit of surveillance.’ It is the chance we need to dismantle Talon once and for all. We need to take the fight to them or we will forever be on the defensive and the allies you have gathered will wonder if we are worth our promises.”_

_”I cannot allow it, Hanzo. It is too dangerous to you and the strength of our Clan.”_

_”Then don’t allow it.”_ The heir to the Shimada Clan defied his father with an unwavering and determined voice of his own. Sojiro’s eyes widened in disbelief when most obedient son refused to backdown and accept his father’s ruling. _”Let the Elders see that we disagree on this. Let them pick sides. Let the war within the family for leadership that you hope to avoid happen. Father, if the Clan is so weak to break upon my death, then it should break. You have said before that the Elders are all capable of leading save for an accident of birth. So are many of my cousins. They simply need to be taught the way you taught me. Do what you must, but I will continue with this line of investigation because I believe it is the best option for our Clan’s survival. If we continue as we are then we are nothing more than bait for Talon to destroy.”_

Hanzo was not going to allow the Council of Elders to dictate their moves any longer. He was exhausted with their attempts to manipulate matters to suit them. It had cost them his brother. He would not let it cost him his friends as well. They could not isolate him and use him as their puppet. He refused.

Sojiro sat back as he digested Hanzo’s ultimatum. _”You have grown.”_ The small statement was one of surprise realization.

 _”It was bound to happen eventually.”_ Hanzo sighed. He had not wanted to cross his father in this way, but he would not backdown from what he believed in.

The oyabun closed his eyes as he thought. It was several long moments before he continued. Moments Hanzo agonized over. If he was going to be flatly denied then it would make his chosen task more difficult. He would still have support from a few of his cousins, but it would be far better if his father accepted the necessity of the situation. _”Know that I disagree with this. I cannot as your father approve of you actively seeking out dangerous conditions.”_

_”It is what I’ve done since becoming an active ninja within the Clan.”_

_”I know. But you have always had ample backup. I do not like the idea of you only having McCree and Sombra to watch your back.”_

_”It will not always be those two. It will depend on the circumstances.”_

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Sojiro accepted the his son’s proposal. _”Try not to get yourself killed.”_ He only did this because the prospect of a split council would make both of their lives a living hell.

 _”You know I will do my best.”_ Hanzo bowed slightly from where he knelt. He rose without being dismissed. The conversation over in his mind. When he exited the library, he found Sombra crouched across from the door studying her screens and McCree lounging next to her, hat covering his eyes. He sighed. “How much did you overhear?”

“Enough to know that he’s not happy with you, but can’t do anything.” Jesse stood. When he tilted the black cowboy hat back a magnificent smirk greeted the archer. The man could be too much sometimes.

“Sombra,” Hanzo turned his attention to the little hacker. She had put her screens away and was watching them expectantly. “What do you know of the current surveillance outposts for Talon and Overwatch?”

“ _Como?”_ She exclaimed, eyes huge. Hanzo chuckled at being able to startle the young woman. She always seemed to know everything and when he managed to surprise her, it was a moment worthy of savoring.

“It’s time those two groups learn how to watch their backs for a change. We’re taking the fight to them.”

“Now you’re talking.” A purple holographic screen opened up between them. Pictures and text streaming across at the will of Sombra’s fingers. “I got some places already lined up. Just tell me when.”

Hanzo nodded his appreciation then cast a side glance to the cowboy. The American leaned against the wall, arms crossed. The ninja gave a sly smile that made the biker frown in confusion. “But I think a vacation is in order first.” That brought out the expected grin from the gunslinger.

“ _Excelente!_ ” Sombra laughed brightly. “I know just the place. I’m using your account, Hanzo.”

“I’ll let you make the arrangements then. And consider that number yours.” Both of his friends gaped at him with this comment. “It will save me a lot of trouble and anxiety in the long run.”

“Hey! You changed the balance.”

It was now reduced to a max of ten thousand dollars. “Of course I did. I don’t trust you to keep to a budget.”

“Well now you’ve taken all the fun out of it,” Sombra groused. She still went about making whatever arrangements she had planned. It would be good to spend time not focused on a mission of any sort. The time in Utopaea had been a good breather prior to the assassination attempt. Hanzo was actually looking forward to the upcoming days of freedom. 

{}}}}{{{{}

The hotel on the little Mexican island out in the Caribbean Ocean was spectacular. While they couldn’t see the ocean from their rooms, the sea breeze brought the salty tang to their doorstep. Jesse stood on the balcony of his and Hanzo’s room and just admired the scene below of undisturbed nature. He had never seen so much greenery before, having grown up in the middle of the desert. Venturing out into Japan and now southern Mexico had certainly broaden his horizons. He wondered what he would see next. Where Hanzo’s plan of taking on Talon and Overwatch would take them. Jesse looked forward to it.

Right now he heard rhythmic splashing as someone swam laps in the pool. He lit a cigar and leaned on the railing. They weren’t directly over the pool but he still had a fantastic view of the water and patio. There was no stopping the low appreciative whistle that emerged. “Is that Hanzo?” Two stories below in the outdoor pool was the muscular archer, hair tied back in a bun. Wearing nothing but a dark blue speedo. Jesse found he couldn’t look away. Though he couldn’t see the details of the tattoo shown bare on the ninja’s arm, his mind filled in the image. Just watching the interplay of the trapezoid muscles was mesmerizing. 

“Hmm?” Sombra’s questioning hum barely disturbed his observations. The ice clinked against the sides of a glass as she set her red fruity drink on the balcony table. “Seems like Hanzo went for a swim after all. And stop drooling. It’s as if you’ve never seen a half naked man before.”

The gunslinger’s jaw clipped shut the moment he was caught being a slack jawed idiot. “But damn.” But now he had permission to eye the amazing body of the archer.

“He’s gorgeous? Athletic? Beautiful beyond all belief?” The hacker provided a list of descriptions to fill the void.

“Smoking hot.”

Sombra gave him a side long appraising look. “We really need to work on your vocabulary.” Jesse chose to ignore her and retreated back into the room intent on heading down to the pool. Cigar snuffed and forgotten on the table. “Hold on there, cowboy.” He turned and saw the young woman rifling through his duffle bag. Part of him wanted to chew her out for going through his belongings. Another part wanted to disregard her request and continue on his original path. Then a pair of red swimming trunks hit his face. “I suggest you change first,” she smirked, returning to her cocktail.

He had never stripped and redressed so quickly. Barreling out of the bathroom, Jesse had a towel over his shoulder and was placing his cowboy hat back on his head. He was not going to miss this opportunity. He barely even heard the departing comment of, “Good luck!” from Sombra as he vanished from the room.

Jesse’s bare feet slapped against the concrete, announcing his mad dash with no class. Why would he care. He had more important things on his mind. Like standing at the edge of the pool, watching the perfectly conditioned ninja turn under water for another lap. Jesse sat on the edge and let his lower legs dangle in the cool waves. Hanzo noticed about a yard away and stopped short. He remained crouched in the water, his arms splayed to keep himself steady. Even the annoyed sigh didn’t faze McCree.

“I thought you said you were going back to the room to smoke then nap.” Hanzo’s arched eyebrow had not yet reached the idiot range. It was merely curious.

Jesse shrugged. “And miss this golden opportunity to watch you shirtless? You’re joking right?” He grinned. After their discussion in Utopaea, McCree felt free to take more liberties with the look but not touch policy of their public relationship. And just like now it produced that wonderful mix of exasperation and amusement from of the archer.

“Then, get in the pool,” Hanzo said pointedly before swimming in the other direction. Jesse didn’t need to be told twice. He tossed his hat and towel on the nearest chair and dropped in immediately. Only to muffle a curse at how absolutely chilled the water felt when compared to the hot humid air of the island. The pool was only three feet deep so Jesse was comfortable wading through towards where Hanzo was swimming back to him. Again the archer stopped arms distance away. Though this time he stood completely upright. Glistening water shed from the smooth skin, captivating McCree. “It’s about time you learn how to swim.”

Absurdity crashed around him. “What? No. That wasn’t the point.”

Hanzo gave a quiet snort in laughter. “Jesse, if the only reason you came here was to stare at me while I swim, then your price is to learn how to swim.”

“Ooh, you… I like winning bets better than your hard bargains.” Jesse ground his teeth as he tried to find away around the lessons. 

“Yakuza, remember.” Hanzo gave him an amused smile. “Not to mention an accomplished businessman.”

“Okay, that right there makes it even worse.”

“But doesn’t change your desires, or my price.”

They were at an impasse. Jesse was loathed to struggle through swimming when it would impact his ability to watch the impressive body before him. Slowly common sense sunk into Jesse’s skull. The thick arms of the archer had crossed over the bare chest. The dragon tattoo in its full splendor along the entire left arm and left pectoral. It was as beautiful and impressive as every time Jesse got a glimpse of it. And the other shoulder had something discoloring it, but the way Hanzo stood meant it wasn’t clearly visible. That didn’t matter as much as Jesse’s logic telling him that these arms stood a good change of holding him aloft in the water. How could he say no to that. “You got yourself a deal.”

“Then let’s get started. Do you know how to float?” Jesse just stared blankly at Hanzo’s question. Float? He came from the desert. While he had seen plenty of dried up pools, swimming was done at your own risk in high flowing rapids filled with rocks ready to crush the poor soul who tried to take a dip. Hanzo didn’t need Jesse to explain that. He answered his own question. “Of course not. Alright. Lay back in the water. It’s the first step, Jesse. You’re not going to sink. And you can always stand upright if the anxiety gets the better of you.”

The cowboy struggled to school his face into something less fearful. He just wasn’t sure if that was at all possible. Trusting his body to the insubstantial water went against every ingrained piece of logic he had. But he didn’t have to trust the water. He was trusting Hanzo. And that was something he did daily. Nodding, Jesse finally relaxed back. A firm hand caught him at his shoulders and the other lifted his lower back. Jesse forced his breath to slow down. He willed his heart to stop pounding. What he couldn’t figure out right then was if it was from Hanzo actually touching his bare skin or the terror of sinking.

“Relax. Tensing up won’t help.” Hanzo spoke gently. Jesse pried his eyes open. He hadn’t even realized he shut them in the first place. Locking onto the dark brown gaze above him, Jesse focused on releasing his muscles. The places where Hanzo’s fingers propped him up burned with the fire of exhilaration. “Now flex your hips and tuck your butt. Focus on keeping your torso straight. Just like this.” 

What was amazing was the gentle eyes gazing down at him held no judgement about why a grown man couldn’t swim. No ridicule at the fear that must linger in Jesse’s eyes. While Jesse didn’t remember much about the drowning episode, he remembered waking up fighting for every breath and knew the water had caused it. Now here he was in the water trying to learn how to float, being taught by the man who had saved him. If that wasn’t enough to engender love and loyalty, Jesse didn’t know what could. He closed his eyes again, briefly cutting out the distraction of the beautiful man above him. He would do this. He knew he could.

Then the points of fire where Hanzo held him up started to vanish. He was sinking. Panic cost him his focus. His belly and butt dropped, plunging him into the water. His legs kicked, frantically trying to find the bottom of the pool. This had been a bad idea. The worst ever. Then he stopped. Barely six inches below the surface, his head never went under. Those arms, the ones that drew a deadly bow string for a living, caught him. Jesse found Hanzo’s sharp features. Unreadable and smooth. He tried to focus on restraining his breath.

“Just because I am no longer touching you, does not mean I am not ready to support you. You did fine, Jesse. Ready for another go?” Calm and patient. Had the ninja always been these things? It was just another side to the mysterious man Jesse had fallen for. Dropping his head back against his shoulders, Jesse watched the white clouds drift lazily overhead. No, he wasn’t really ready. But then when was he ever?

The cowboy nodded. He willed his body to resume the floating position. Hanzo’s arms and hands helped lift him back to the surface. Jesse could feel his heart pounding in his chest. This time he knew it was from the panic. The hands drifted away leaving only the barest touch of fingertips. When he was stable the fingers vanished. Jesse repeatedly told himself that they were just out of reach. There he remained, gaze somewhere between the blue sky and the pretty face.

And that was how his afternoon went. From literally floating in Hanzo’s arms to getting confident on holding his breath underwater. And when Jesse needed a break, Hanzo resumed his laps. The ninja didn’t seem to notice Jesse staring at him as per the agreed bargain. And Jesse appreciated every inch. He couldn’t decide if he wanted to run his fingers over every delicious curve of those toned muscles or let Hanzo envelop him so he could lounge against the broad firm chest. There really was no bad option.

“So, Jesse,” Sombra’s high pitched call interrupted his more interesting thoughts. “Does this mean you’re coming snorkeling with us tomorrow?” She was crouched down at the edge of the pool so that she could speak to him mostly at eye level.

“Huh? No. I barely know how to float.”

“Oh that’s easy. I just thought you might have more fun than sitting here all by your lonesome.” Sombra grinned. Jesse knew there was something else going on in her brain but he couldn’t figure it out. It was early evening and the sky had changed to a fiery red with the setting sun. Probably time to consider dinner. Which was highly likely to be why Sombra had ventured forth from the balcony.

“We’ll get him a life vest so he won’t sink.” Hanzo traitorously offered as he waded closer. “That way I can teach him some of the proper strokes for swimming.”

“Now hold on there.”

“Yeah, you’ll need the deeper water if you want to teach him how to tread water. Good thing I already booked him passage on the boat.” Sombra completely spoke over his protests. Had these two planned to get him in the water ever since they planned this trip? Never trust a ninja and a hacker working together. That was the lesson of the day.

Hanzo pushed himself from the pool and a smooth strong motion that left Jesse speechless. “Perfect. Did we miss our dinner reservations?”

“No. I asked they move the table outside. Grab your towels and let’s go. I’m starving!” Sombra was already waving from the gate as she bid them to hurry up.

Jesse used the stairs, not sure he could pull himself over the edge of the pool so effortlessly. While drying off, he caught a good look at Hanzo’s right shoulder. Jesse grabbed the man’s arm to study it better. He ignored the archer’s annoyed hum in favor of tracing the twin dragons encircling Hanzo’s deltoid. “How long have you had this?”

“Since I was twenty and finishing college. Not too long after I got the tattoo.” Hanzo took his arm back and slid it into his short sleeved button up. In the light blue shirt and khaki shorts, Hanzo looked nothing like the ninja Jesse had first met. He was more relaxed and more approachable. Something that was really appealing from the usually standoffish yakuza boss in training. “Only blood relatives of the Shimada Clan can bear the family crest. Those destined for leadership positions get the crest branded into their shoulder. My uncles, father and I have it.”

“And Genji?” The name still brought up complicated feelings, but at least it didn’t seem taboo any more.

Hanzo shook his head. “Genji never wanted it. He wanted the dragon tattoo and the power that came with it, but he hated everything about the Clan and its mission.” The archer explained matter of factly but a sadness remained tangible in his words. Jesse remedied that by dropping his arm across Hanzo’s shoulders to give him a side hug. Hanzo glanced up when the cowboy left his arm there. “You didn’t bring a shirt, did you?”

“Nope.” He slung the towel over his shoulder then plopped his hat back on his head.

“You’re going to get cold.”

“Not with you here.” Jesse grinned brightly when Hanzo tucked his left arm around the cowboy’s waist. He reached over and caressed the smooth lines of the archer’s cheek, leaning in unconsciously seeking what his heart deemed a perfect moment.

Then the fingertips of Hanzo’s right hand stopped his advance. “Jesse, we talked about this.”

“You’re killing me, darling,” Jesse drew back with a heavy sigh. His fingers ran across the jawline lightly before leaving the ninja alone.

“And I’m not ready.”

Groaning in disappointment, Jesse dropped his head onto the damp black hair of the shorter man. “Alright… I give. It’s not happening tonight.”

He felt the broad hand squeeze his waist tighter. “Let’s get dinner,” there was definitely a smug smile in that response. Jesse let himself be led towards the outdoor patio where the luxurious meal awaited.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... Teaser: The next chapter will probably be long (no surprise there) and consist mostly of Hanzo, Jesse, and Sombra being young twenty somethings having fun and risking their lives.
> 
> And reach a huge milestone in Hanzo and Jesse's relationship.
> 
> Looking forward to seeing you then.


	15. Adventures of the Delinquent Trio

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three friends working together, having fun, and leaving utter chaos in their wake. Also Jesse and Hanzo make progress with their relationship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is long. A fair bit of self indulgence and A montage of the three doing what they do best. And serving to push the plot and romance further along. I said slow burn, but I think we have officially moved to steamy in future chapters.

**Chapter Fifteen: Adventures of the Delinquent Trio**

“Hanzo! I can’t keep an eye on ya if you keep disappearing to the rooftops!” Jesse whispered harshly to his partner. The promise to watch each other’s backs had only intensified as their relationship grew closer. So when Hanzo decided to start going on these oddball missions to interrupt Talon, McCree went wholeheartedly because he had been dying of boredom, but also with increased anxiety every time the archer vanished from his sight. Movement caught his attention and Jesse ducked back behind a shipping container when he saw troops in black turning the corner. “Ain’t this a load of crap,” he muttered. They had been following a lead of Talon operatives attempting to steal advanced technology from some Chinese firm and now a team of Blackwatch goons were about to interrupt.

“If you’re going to use that language then be specific.” Hanzo’s cool, calm, collected voice responded over the communication lines. 

McCree sneered at the disembodied reprimand. “While you lot scurried on ahead, Blackwatch decided to show up and ruin the party. Don’t think they saw me, but they certainly know where you guys are. Probably after Talon as well.” Several Japanese curses echoed in his ear. The team they brought wasn’t prepared to take on two massive groups of military goons. They were a hit and run team of six, meant to disrupt the theft. And if lucky steal the equipment right from under their noses. 

“Which way are they coming?” The archer came back with a rational question amidst the concerns.

Peeking around the edge of the shipping container, Jesse watched the rear ends of the Blackwatch crew split off. “Main force of about ten are heading between the red warehouse and the docks. A group of three disappeared inside, probably trying to find the high ground.”

“Talon has taken the pier next to the cargo ship.” Hanzo’s voice tapered out as he considered their options. “McCree, you have a better view of the situation. Recommendations?”

The gunslinger had to pause to comprehend that the heir to the Shimada Clan had actually asked for an outside analysis of the disaster they had stumbled into. Jesse wasn’t sure if he was flattered or frustrated. Sure, McCree had given plenty of opinions to their activities before. Usually spur of the moment observations and suggestions that would give them the advantage in a fight. What Hanzo was asking for now was a full change in their battle plans. Jesse was just a hired gun. Meant to follow directions and kill those he was pointed at. This wasn’t exactly in his job description.

“Sombra, Zenkichi, you’re going to be sandwiched between them if you don’t get out.” McCree took up the task as best he could. He was the only one with a good idea as to where their opponents were. “If you’re still in the warehouse, the best bet is to make it to the roof. Hiro, there’s gotta be a sniper with Blackwatch. Possibly one with Talon. The orange cargo ship has a crane above it. You’re closest. Think you can get there unseen?” The youngest ninja of the group was also the only one with a sniper rifle. The others preferred their bows and swords.

“Affirmative. On my way.”

“Tell me what you see when you get there.” McCree racked his brain for alternatives. Six against twenty. Horrible odds. But the twenty would be fighting against each other so they could pick off the stragglers as they escaped. “Alright folks, this has just become a ‘get out of dodge’ scenario. Let them get into their battle and avoid the stray bullets.” He got mutters of agreement. An annoyed committal from Sombra. She was the one who really wanted the tech, but life and limb came first. They were not currently geared up to get caught in the middle of two juggernauts duking it out. “If things get hairy, we could really use a sword on the ground.” Jesse didn’t know why Hanzo chose to leave his katana at home. He could guess as it happened after the duel with Genji. Everyone knew the archer was also the best swordsman in the Clan. The elder Shimada brother said nothing. And Jesse wasn’t about to press the issue today.

Sora, the other archer on the roof with Hanzo, answered the plea. “You’re going to have to settle for my sword, McCree.”

“Let’s hope your arrows are all we need.” The gunslinger muttered. If they required another ninja on the ground, that was one more that might not make it. Jesse was the one stuck between two trigger happy platoons and he needed everyone he could get above the mayhem. “Hiro?” The kid had been silent for a longer time than McCree thought it took to get into place. These ninjas moved fast.

“Sorry.” The young ninja answered immediately. “There is air support. Blackwatch. Looks like a transport not a gunship, but won’t hold it past them to have something on board. It’s sheltering about five blocks away behind the Baowu warehouse.” Some choice curses in Spanish and Japanese filled the radio line. Jesse was glad English was his first language as he could tune this out. Their transport was only a warehouse away from that location. It was a good spot to hide, probably why Blackwatch picked it. But it also put into question if Blackwatch had found their transport. 

“Snipers?” McCree forced the conversation to the immediate dangers. 

“Two. Talon on the blue cargo ship. Blackwatch taking up position near the control tower. I can get a line on either. But I’m more at risk if Talon sees me take out Blackwatch. At least Blackwatch’s back is to me.” That answered choice of targets.

“Take ‘em out. Sombra, Zenkichi? Tell me you’re getting out of the crossfire.”

“I’m clear. Got an exit. Zen is stuck.” Sombra answered. “He’s got two Talon soldiers using his hiding spot to prepare their assault on the cargo ship’s security. Once they move he’ll be free, but easily seen. I’m sticking around to bail him out.” The hacker must have a good position. As expected from Los Muertos. Somehow they always managed to find the most unexpected spot to hide out and take advantage of surprise.

“Alright, we wait for their timing. Hiro, has Blackwatch spotted Hanzo or Sora.”

“Not as far as I can tell. Seems focused on the target cargo ship.” The young ninja gave the semi-good news. Now they could only wait. McCree went through the mental map again. From where he stood behind a stack of shipping containers the red warehouse was in front of him. Sombra inside and Zenkichi on the other side. To the right were the docks and the blue cargo ship where Talon’s sniper was setting up. Where Zenkichi was hidden would be the pier that housed the target cargo ship and Talon’s entrance. Blackwatch had walked into Talon’s sniper’s nest. Things would not be pretty on their end. To McCree’s left was the silver warehouse where Hanzo and Sora waited. And the direction from which Blackwatch had come. Practically above them was the control tower for this area of the port. And Blackwatch’s sniper. A good view of the target cargo ship. Above them was the crane that Hiro now perched on.

Though McCree estimated twenty combatants from both Talon and Blackwatch converging on the target ship, he suspected at least ten more hiding out beyond their sights. Be it on the transport airship parked at the Baowu warehouse or the small gunship moored in the shadows of target cargo ship. Those unknowns would be covering their teammates retreat. The task McCree was supposed to have. Now he was directing the whole messy affair.

The original plan had the ninjas distracting Talon and the cargo ship’s security while Sombra snuck on board and took the technology. Now she was hoping to get Zenkichi out of a tight spot. Jesse’s stomach was in knots just thinking about the change in plans. Waiting was the worst.

Thankfully Talon wasn’t patient. Gunshots started firing as the soldiers in black with red visors stormed the cargo ship. Not a second later guns started echoing between the buildings as the black garbed soldiers in full body armor announced themselves from behind. A mini war broke out on the docks with Zenkichi in the middle of it. Somehow above the rifles and pistols, McCree heard the overpowered rifle of a sniper. His heart stopped beating for a moment, unsure who the target was.

“Talon sniper is down.” Hiro came over the radio. “But Blackwatch knows where I am.”

“Get out of there,” McCree advised. It was common sense, but in the heat of battle sometimes the obvious didn’t feel so obvious. “Sombra? Can you two get out yet?”

A frustrated growl answered him. “I need a distraction. Good thing the steel drums Zen is behind can act as armor. But the inside of the warehouse is clear. We can book it.” With Sombra’s declaration the metallic echos of bullets accompanied her.

The situation was dire and he needed to do something or they might lose both Zenkichi and Sombra. “Sombra, you’re gonna need to be ready. It will take two perhaps three shots to get their attention. Hanzo and Sora, I’m counting on you to keep me alive. This is the one time I’m allowing you to take potshots six inches from my head.” McCree trotted down the ally towards the pier. Cover left behind in attempt to save his friends. In the back of his mind was the one he couldn’t see. Hiro running from the sniper. This was hell not knowing and feeling responsible for the guy.

Suddenly the radio answered his worries with pained Japanese. _”The Blackwatch sniper is down. But hurry, two more men exited the transport ship. Hanzo… I think I’m bleeding out.”_ McCree’s blood froze in his veins. Someone had to get to the young ninja. He couldn’t because he was trying to get Zenkichi. That left the archers. Dropping down to one reduced the chances of this side of the conflict to escape. But there was no choice. 

_”Sora, cover McCree. Hiro, I’m on my way.”_ Hanzo responded. The gunslinger imagined the mute footsteps quickly crossing the roofs to where the wounded ninja waited. 

Now to get Zenkichi. McCree edged around the corner of the warehouse where the gunfire sounded the loudest. His first shot took out a Blackwatch soldier in the base of the neck. The next further down and caught a Talon soldier in the helmet. Jesse couldn’t tell if the man went down or not because as he prepared the third shot the entire force of ten armored men from both sides trained their weapons on him. McCree ducked back behind the building and listened to the stomp of boots heading his way. His own snakeskin boots pounded the concrete as he tried to lead the chase. 

Then finally he heard the whoosh of an arrow passing way too close to his head. The thud of a man dropping to the ground. McCree turned and dropped two more shots into the crowd of mixed soldiers in black. Black was a favored color among illegal activities. Now he could barely tell which was Blackwatch and which was Talon. Not that it mattered. Next a cascade of machine gun bullets reached his ears. Sombra took the offensive from behind. Ten were down to perhaps seven. Split with which direction to shoot. Jesse kept running. Two more shots slowed the wave of black armor and the gunslinger was forced to reload. 

A long awaited voice finally sounded on the radio. “Sombra and I are clear. Making our way back to the transport.” Zenkichi was alive and well. With a fresh round of bullets, McCree emptied the entire cylinder into the crowd before reaching the end of the warehouse walls and darting around the corner. 

He was not fast. Yet he put every ounce of speed he had into his legs to beat it from the onslaught of fighters. His breath came tight and fast the more effort he put into the run. That was how McCree learned that his chest plate of armor was damaged, not giving him the necessary movement for his lungs. But he was alive. And mighty thankful to this armor for keeping him that way. 

A few more arrows came awfully close to hitting him, but McCree was in no condition to complain. He turned another corner and saw that the two groups of soldiers finally realized they were supposed to be fighting each other. A massive brawl started, giving the Shimada team a chance to escape. When Jesse finally made it to the transport, Zenkichi was starting the engines, Sombra had medical supplies in hand. Sora waited on the edge of their hideout searching for the other two. Jesse didn’t think his heart could handle having to rescue another teammate. It was already worn thin with worrying for the two that had yet to return.

 _”I need assistance at the fire escape,”_ Hanzo’s call over the radio lifted some of the weight off Jesse’s overloaded heart. He scrambled to the edge of the roof. The same rickety metal stairs he had climbed up to reach the transport. What he saw drowned what remained of his hope. It didn’t stop him from taking the flights faster than was safe. Nor change the care with which he took Hanzo’s burden onto his shoulders for the return climb. The pitifully weak breaths at the back of his neck told him everything he needed to know. Even with the first aid Sombra and Sora administered, Hiro’s chances were slim.

McCree buckled himself into the transport and tugged his hat low, avoiding all eye contact or conversation. His decisions led to this outcome. He was a hired gun, not a decision maker. He shouldn’t have this blood on his hands.

{}}}}{{{{}

With the stone wall as his support, Hanzo sank to the pavement. They had just transferred Hiro to an ambulance bound for critical care at the hospital. Paramedics were not hopeful about Hanzo’s younger cousin’s chances. At least they were honest. And if he survived, it would be a long road to recovery and an artificial leg. With his head cradled between his knees, Hanzo struggled for the strength to accept the worst. Dealing with the death of anyone associated with the Clan was difficult. For it to be a family member he had trained with and grew up with… That was something else entirely.

Footsteps went around him. Leaving him alone. They had their own injuries to tend to. Equipment to clean up. Hanzo only had a debriefing to prepare for. One he knew he would not enjoy. Not that he enjoyed any of them. But with the possible loss of a family member, the explanation had better be solid.

 _”Hanzo?”_ Sora spoke above him. When Hanzo looked up, his cousin and fellow archer held out his hand. The son of the oyabun gratefully accepted the assist to stand. _”The Council is waiting for you. But everyone else is situated. Though you might want to check on the cowboy. He seems to be taking this mission harder than usual.”_

Sighing, the Shimada heir glanced to the upper rooms of the castle. _”I suppose I must wait until after the meeting.”_ He should have made sure Jesse was alright after transferring Hiro to medical care instead of wallowing in self doubt. The gunslinger was probably blaming himself for this situation when his plan and actions had kept everyone else alive. _”Did we learn anything useful from the outing?”_

_”Surprisingly yes. Sombra managed to slip bugs onto operatives of both units and Ren is following them now. Most important is that Talon did not get the experimental Omnic hard drive. So despite having to fall back, the mission was a success.”_

_”A success would have been if Sombra managed to steal that piece of technology.”_ Hanzo started for the main entrance his home. On the way he straightened his uniform and cleared his mind of emotional distractions. His uncles would not be kind and he doubted his father would be supportive. The oyabun had not wanted Hanzo to even take part in these missions. For the most part they had produced solid information about the Talon organization and thus keys to destroying it. Or supplied the Shimada Clan with technology beyond their previous levels. All of which was shared with their alliance partners Los Muertos and Deadlock. To an extent. Sombra was the only one to understand everything they acquired and even she did not share all with her boss. There were some pieces of technology that just didn’t suit the American gangs.

This was the first foray that did not end well for them.

 _”You are too hard on yourself, Hanzo,”_ Sora tried to placate him. Hanzo was lucky to have close friendships with his cousins. It made these difficult situations a little less painful when those involved understood how troubled a leader’s mind could be. Sora had led plenty of assassination missions and not all of them had been successful. _”Even the best laid plans rely on the skill of those who implement them. Hiro is talented, but we will always meet someone more talented than ourselves. It’s just a matter of time.”_

_”I doubt the Council of Elders will see it your way.”_

_”You know what the solution is, right?”_ Sora had a cheeky grin plastered on his face. Hanzo wanted to tell him that he could not assassinate their uncles. “ _Name me one of the Council members. And Hiro too. Then you will always have an ally on the board.”_

The heir broke out in stress relieving chuckles. It wasn’t a bad idea. No one had filled Uncle Akira’s position on the Council. Only an interim managed his part of the business. But he needed Sora in the field for now. _”I’ll consider it. But I do not think you’d enjoy the position.”_ Now Hiro on the other hand… Should he survive the young ninja might do well in the noncombat roles available to the family. Hanzo gave his cousin a reassuring smile and they went their separate ways.

As expected once faced with the table of old men, Hanzo’s mood soured considerably. He explained the details of the mission. Leaving out the fact that McCree had been the one to determine the new exit plan. They would not have taken to that knowledge well. At the end of two hours of berating and lectures, the heir to the Shimada Clan left forcing his head to remain high and not allowing a hint of the devastation he felt show. He knew for a fact that his uncles on the Council had done little in the way of field work and that was long ago when they were young. 

Only his father and Uncle Shinya said nothing against Hanzo’s decisions on the battlefield. Nor did they reprimand him for Hiro’s injuries. Those two understood the complications that arose from battle. And agreed that it had been for the best to withdraw. Yet it was a council. Everyone had a voice there. Once Hanzo finished explaining, the others released their opinions. It changed nothing. Only increased the difficulty to bolster the confidence to do this again. Hanzo knew they were not nearly close enough to demolish Talon and everything they had learned spoke to how Talon was gearing up to take them down. He would continue. He could not let his family be defeated by this upstart.

In that mindset he strode to McCree’s room. From Sora’s brief description the American was in quite a state. Still Hanzo did not expect the stench of smoke wafting through the halls as he approached the door. He knocked and received no answer. But the door was unlocked and he opened it hesitantly. The half empty bottle of whiskey in the gunslinger’s hand and the filled ashtray of cigarettes were somehow not what Hanzo was expecting. Though the window was open a white hazed filled the small room. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?” McCree grumbled, blowing a long stream of smoke towards the ceiling. 

“McCree, we need to talk.”

“No, we don’t. Now go away.” The gunslinger tipped the bottle into his mouth and guzzled an amount beyond healthy. Now Hanzo was no stranger to drowning sorrows in alcohol, but this was extreme.

The Shimada heir stood his ground. “No. You need to stop drinking so we can talk about what happened.”

“And I said no. We don’t.” The oversized American got off his bed and stood tall. Cigarette clenched between his teeth and whiskey sloshing from the bottle. Splashes rained down on the rug and the hazardous collection of clothes on the floor. This all was secondary to the glower on McCree’s face. Hanzo suddenly had the impression that he had just irritated a grizzly bear. “I might as well have pulled the trigger myself, so don’t you try to pretend otherwise. I don’t need some sorta boss lecturing me.”

“That is not how it happened and you know it.” Hanzo growled in frustration. “Hiro was doing his job to the best of his ability and he succeeded. Do not presume to belittle his efforts by such a claim.”

“See, lectures.” McCree used the cigarette in his hand to punctuate his statement. “Last thing I need to hear. Go away.”

“McCree —.”

“I said, GO AWAY,” The cowboy roared and shoved Hanzo, already standing in the doorway, out into the hall. “And if you bother to come back, leave the boss hat outside.” The wooden door echoed loudly in the empty hall. There was no accompanying click denoting a lock engaging. Either the gunslinger did not know how or was not in the right state of mind to do so.

Hanzo took a deep breath. He would not get into a yelling match with a drunk. “Very well.” The archer studied the plain white door with an increasing frown. This situation held all the markings of an abusive alcoholic. Yet they were going on two years since McCree had arrived in Hanamura and this was the first episode ever witnessed. There were plenty of eyes on the biker at all times, if this was a regular occurrence then they would have seen it before now. Sora was right. The mission and its consequences had messed up the gunslinger. 

Returning to his room, Hanzo considered drowning in a bottle of sake. But that would change nothing. Just like McCree who would wake up the following morning with a splitting headache and a worse attitude. 

As he changed for bed, Hanzo thought of a better idea. One which would get both of their minds off the recent disaster and hopefully let the biker deal with his guilt. He sent a series of texts to the attendants caring for the house and garage. The archer then chose the most casual items in his closet. Things he had not really worn since graduating college. Not jeans like the American. Cargo pants with much needed pockets. He never went anywhere without a place to hide weapons. His windbreaker completed the outfit. Though it was a fairly warm night, his plans required it.

After all the cowboy had given an invitation to return. With conditions.

The ninja stuffed his wallet next to his shurikens and returned to McCree’s room. The smoke sill reeked. There would be no removing that smell for days. This time though he knocked and waited. When there was no answer he knocked again, more forcefully. He could be polite, but he was not going to be ignored. This time when there was no response, Hanzo called, “Jesse, I can either barge in on you like last time, or you could at least open the door.”

The shuffling of unsteady steps answered. Hanzo was greeted with the same image of a disheveled gunslinger minus the cowboy hat. Bottle of whiskey in the right hand and cigarette dangling from his mouth. “What?”

“Come with me.” Hanzo turned as if to leave the hall. He did take some pleasure in the confused look that crossed the drunk’s face. “I promise no lectures. No conversation, beyond what you choose. Leave the bottle and come with me. I have a surprise that I’ve been meaning to show you.” He sure hoped this worked. Of all things he could count on it was Jesse McCree’s curiosity. The heavy glass bottle clunked on the dresser and the cowboy boots thudded down the hall. Hanzo gritted his teeth as he stifled the urge to reprimand McCree for wearing the boots inside the castle. But as promised, no lectures. Later. When the man was sober.

Jesse lit a new cigarette once they were outside on the veranda. Hanzo said nothing, just led the way to the garage. There Sora’s motorcycle stood ready. Two helmets dangled on the handlebars. In the seat storage Hanzo knew three liters of water waited with a couple of blankets. Sora had wished him luck after granting permission to use the bike. Hanzo only rolled his eyes at the text. Now he passed over a helmet to the cowboy and waited.

“Hanzo… I’m drunk. I’m pretty sure I’d barrel us into a wall if I got behind the wheel.” The inebriated man was shockingly rational.

“Good thing you’re not driving.” Hanzo shoved the helmet into the man’s chest, then produced his wallet, displaying the license tucked into the folds.

Jesse sighed and squinted at the small document. “Let me rephrase this. Hanzo, I’m drunk. That’s in Japanese. Help me out here.”

“It’s my drivers license.”

“You don’t drive.”

“I didn’t. I still try not to. But I did this so I could take you for a ride.”

“When?” Jesse’s face scrunched as he tried to figure out how Hanzo had kept this a secret.

Sighing, Hanzo figured he had to explain everything. Even if it brought up difficult subjects. “I got Genji to teach me how to drive a motorcycle. And the pool of drivers enjoyed teaching me the other vehicles once Genji… was no longer here. I only passed the test recently.”

Jesse belted out a peal of laughter loud enough to wake the whole town. “Oh man… that must have been something to see. Did you wreck anything?” He gasped through his chuckles, strapping the helmet into place.

“For your information, I didn’t. Now, do you think you are able to stay on?”

“Honey, if I’m hanging on to you, I’ll never loose my grip.”

With the mandate of no lectures, Hanzo found himself chuckling at the absurd terms of endearment the cowboy spouted. “I will hold you to it.” He mounted the bike and waited for the Deadlock biker to take position behind him. Hanzo was definitely self conscious as Jesse’s expansive chest pressed up against him. As they left the garage the biker’s hands gripped the side handles, but once they reached toll road, Jesse slipped even closer, wrapping his arms around Hanzo’s waist. It took all of Hanzo’s self control to not shiver from the intimacy. They might not have done this before, but they had experienced such closeness just in a different setting. 

Hanzo slowly grew accustomed to the feel of the thick forearms across his stomach. The security within the embrace startled the archer. Being with Jesse had become comfortable and his touch had started to be welcomed. Now the touch held new meaning. With the cowboy drunk and his inhibitions distorted, this was probably the most real McCree had ever been. All the anger and all the affection. Not that he had been judicial with his comments before now, but there had always seemed to be a strong bravado surrounding the gunslinger. Hanzo found he preferred this blunt, unapologetic honesty.

And the strong arms holding onto him. Bushy sideburns scratching at his neck with how close Jesse leaned up against him. Hanzo continued to be surprised as the biker leaned with each turn, helping with the stability of the motorcycle. Even inebriated, the cowboy knew how to ride. It must be second nature to him. And as promised Jesse never dozed off or lost his grip. 

The humid night air of a Tokyo summer rushed past them, isolating them in the roar of wind. Almost alone on the road, save a few transports, Hanzo easily lost his thoughts to the peace surrounding him. The city as asleep as a metropolis could be. The comforting shadow of Mt. Fuji looming in the distance. And just like the few times he had been on a motorcycle, Hanzo felt free of obligations. Only the vehicle, the road, and the need to maintain control at ever increasing speeds. It was that concentration that forced all other worries or obligations from his mind. 

Slowing after exiting the toll road, Hanzo felt Jesse lean even closer. A husky whisper filled his ear. “So, sugar, was that the surprise you were talking about?”

“Not the one I was referring to.” Hanzo smiled to himself as they turned onto the street grid of the city. Things just kept getting in they way of sharing moments like this with the cowboy. Hanzo was used to putting forth effort into all things, but for some reason he kept forgetting that this too needed attention. It still never reached the forefront of his mind until he did these small things with Jesse. Winding through the streets with lights delaying their arrival to the surprise he had planned. Hanzo wondered what he could do to change how he approached this developing relationship.

Jesse’s grip changed as they cruised at a slower speed with frequent turns. Tighter and constantly shifting, forcing Hanzo’s mind to focus on those arms. All those movements seemed absent and in response to the motion of the motorcycle, yet Hanzo knew Jesse was fully aware of his touch. Particularly when the hands dipped lower on the belt line than necessary. But never to the point of being distracting.

Guiding the motorcycle into the public park, he felt Jesse perk up with the change of scenery. They dismounted and Hanzo removed the water and blankets while the cowboy wandered to a grassy patch near the fountain. “Well, this nice. What’s so special about it?” Jesse asked turning from the pond of water.

“I’ve noticed that you tend to gaze at the sky frequently.” Hanzo stepped towards a slender white cylinder. He pressed the keypad to start the holographic program. Above them a soft glow formed into a star studded sky. Jesse’s face opened in amazement. All wide eyes and slacked jawed. Hanzo couldn’t stop the soft chuckle emerging from his chest at the sight. “Because the cities still produce substantial light pollution, the government created these holographic observatories so the citizens could view the night sky as it was meant to be. Since I know you are from an area with unfettered access to such a sky, I thought you would enjoy these parks. I did mean to bring you here sooner… Time just never cooperated…”

“Naw, darlin’, don’t apologize,” Jesse turned back towards the archer with a lopsided grin. When he stepped into Hanzo’s personal space, the heir to the Shimada Clan drew in an unexpected breath as the holographic stars glittered within the dark amber pools. The inebriated cowboy carded his hand through Hanzo’s ink black hair, sending surprising tingles coursing down the ninja’s spine. That was new. “It’s perfect.” Then the taller American was leaning in again, no doubt for a ‘perfect moment kiss.’

“Jesse,” Hanzo called a stop to that before Jesse could get any further. “You’re drunk. And if I let any firsts occur while you are intoxicated, I will be the one that feels cheated.”

“You’re killing me, darlin’.” The cowboy’s forehead dropped to his own, though the hand remained on Hanzo’s cheek.

“Come on,” Hanzo tugged the larger man towards the blanket. “I brought you here to stargaze.”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t do both.” Jesse shot the archer a broad charming grin.

“You are insufferable.” Together they reclined back to observe the stars. Jesse tucked his head against Hanzo’s shoulder, but gazed up at the hologram. Hanzo hugged him close. “You are correct though.”

“About what?”

“This is perfect.” 

Jesse chuckled deeply. “Never thought you’d agree on that.” Conversation lapsed in favor of the main event of the holographic observatory. Just the two of them under the stars.

Eventually Hanzo sighed, knowing he needed to clear the reasoning why the gunslinger got drunk in the first place. “Jesse, about tonight… It wasn’t your fault.”

Jesse tensed up. “Thought you said no lectures.” His voice guarded and distant.

“And I’m not going to lecture you.” Hanzo hugged his partner closer, letting cowboy burrow deeper into the crook of his shoulder. “I apologize for placing the burden of leadership on you without prior warning. I firmly believe that your knowledge of the situation and the enemy gave you the best viewpoint for the change of plans.”

“I don’t know all that much.”

“You should give yourself more credit.” Hanzo glanced down and caught a reddening of Jesse’s cheeks. It could be from the alcohol or it could be from embarrassment. Then the mess of dark brown hair blocked his view. “You know more than you realize. You process the scene differently. As a result your plans always have the element of surprise that puts our opponents on the defensive. I should have considered the presence of snipers. And I didn’t even think about the loading crane behind us.”

“You would have.”

“Perhaps. But the point is, I did not come to those conclusions as quickly as you. And you even understood Hiro’s skillset beyond what I was considering. I forget that he has trained in high powered sniper rifles. It was the right call. And Sora explained something to me after Hiro went off to the hospital. Eventually we all encounter someone who is more skilled than we are.”

The American shifted to better glance up into Hanzo’s eyes. “Have you?” The candid wonder within the man’s eyes caught Hanzo off guard.

The archer paused. It was a good question. He could not say if he had come across another warrior that equaled him in all things. Genji had been the closest opponent who could challenge him with the sword. Now that Hanzo refused to wield the katana, the only weapon he could compare was his bow. Only few people used bows. Yet if they were considering any sharpshooter, then Hanzo thought he had an answer. “I think so. But we should verify that one day.”

“Huh?” Jesse propped himself up on his elbow and stared down at Hanzo. The gunslinger’s brow was creased in confusions. “What do you mean by that?”

Hanzo chuckled softly. The gentle smile spreading into his cheeks. He forgot how much he enjoyed surprising the gunslinger. “I’m challenging you to a shootout. Your revolver against my bow and arrows.”

“You sure about that, hun?” Jesse grinned. “I’ll make you regret that challenge.” The cowboy laughed, apparently forgetting about the whole incident that brought them to this park in the first place. Hanzo was glad of that. He hoped Jesse would remember the good points of this night rather than the guilt related Hiro’s injury. As Jesse’s mirth diminished, the American resettled against Hanzo’s chest as if to sleep. The archer chose not to interrupt the peace. He gaze up at the simulated night sky, impressed with patterns the stars created. Then unbidden Jesse pointed up at the holographic stars. “There’s Orion. He’s always easy to find. The Seven Sisters not far away.”

“You know the constellations?”

“Sure do. Boss taught me. Among other things.”

“Perhaps one day you could teach me.” Hanzo suggested. He had never needed to have such knowledge. His training focused on more practical issues. Though he was discovering that the benefit of spending non mission time with Jesse was definitely a bonus. 

“Promised.” Jesse relaxed back to using Hanzo’s chest as a pillow. “We should to this more often.”

“Stargaze?”

“We could. But I mean sleeping next to each other. Nothing more. Just this. This is nice.”

This needed considering. Again the cowboy was not wrong. Now that they were lying next to each other, it wasn’t nearly as awful he thought it would be. “I won’t dismiss the possibility.” He didn’t know when his opinion on the matter changed. But again, Jesse was right. This was nice.

{}}}}{{{{}

“Oye! Hanzo!” Sombra’s high pitched voice pierced the narrow halls of castle’s upper levels where most of the private living quarters existed. The archer paused and looked back to see the hacker trotting through corridor. “Finally! I have been looking for you forever!”

“Apparently not hard enough,” Hanzo sighed at being interrupted. “Any staff or family member knows how to contact me immediately.” He received a look that clearly said the woman was not going to accept that as a greeting. The arched eyebrow rivaled anything he could produced. “How can I help you, Sombra?”

“I found something I think you would want review.” Sombra grinned, yet still did not produce any actual answers. Hanzo fought the urge to insist on the information. The hacker would withhold everything out of spite should she feel unduly pressured in a non dire situation. 

Glancing down the hall, Hanzo had to make a decision. The bright young woman usually spent her days and nights focused on the computer screens. When she emerged from the technology labs, it was to seek company. And for some reason that always coincided with the rare moments when he forced time from his obligations. “Perhaps you could explain the situation in detail over tea.” He compromised. It would intrude upon the time he planned to spend with Jesse, but the gunslinger would like to be involved with anything Sombra envisioned. 

“Fantastic!” Sombra hooked her arm through his, pulling him towards the private living room. Hanzo had the sinking suspicion that she planned this interruption. “Now, I’ve been investigating the ongoings of our friends in Blackwatch and discovered something rather interesting. Mainly how they are always present when we try to disrupt Talon. Well, to put it simply, they are watching Talon more closely than they are watching us. I think we could do with a few pure observation missions. Just watching Blackwatch do their thing.”

“Sombra, do you realize how much risk that places us in.”

“Not nearly as much as you think.” Sombra tugged them into the room. “I’ve been able to map it all out.”

“Map out what?” Jesse called from his corner of the room. He was packing up books and writing utensils. Apparently he was still taking the Japanese lessons seriously. 

“Just some spying on Blackwatch. I’m sure you’ll enjoy it.” Sombra dropped into a chair at the table and started fiddling with one of the pencils. “Not that you really know much about spying. Not like the ninja over there.” She jabbed her thumb to where Hanzo was preparing the cast-iron tea pot.

“Spying is not quite my area of expertise.” Hanzo explained quietly over the steaming water. There were others in the family better trained for infiltration and espionage. The heir to the Shimada Clan had focused more on assassinations and combat. 

“So?” Sombra shrugged. “You know more than that lumbering cowboy.”

“Now, hold on just a minute.” McCree leaned his bulk across the table. “I’m far better than you’d believe.”

“Sure you are.” Sombra studied her nails as she answered. “About the only thing you are good at is blending in with the unsavory crowd.”

The gunslinger’s leather vest draped over the books and papers as he jabbed his finger into the hacker’s face. “Don’t discount the importance of that.”

Hanzo set the tray on the table, pouring the green tea and finally settling into a chair next to Jesse. Listening to the two squabble brought back memories of similar arguments between Genji and himself. They were equally ridiculous and pointless. It did not matter in the least if Jesse was was capable of spying. Yet it was amusing to listen to the two of them. An absent smile hid behind the stoneware cup. Despite the topic of conversation, the ability to bicker and poke fun at each other without real malice lent an air of normalcy to their friendship. Something Hanzo had not realized he missed.

The lithe hacker did not let up. “Well, as useless as that talent is, we might be able to put it to use. Now, as I see it, Blackwatch has surprised us more times than we really want to admit.” She grabbed her cup of tea as she leaned in. “So what we need to do is observe their workings so we can avoid such unwanted surprises. Talon has been easy to predict.”

“Got that right,” Jesse reclined back, cup in his right hand. “Talon’s operation is just a large scale smash and grab job. Easy to disrupt.”

“You mind?” Sombra arched an annoyed eyebrow at the cowboy. Jesse tipped his hat to relinquish the floor. “Now, seeing as how Blackwatch is not as predictable and has managed to strip their soldiers of all my attempts to sneak a bug into their operations, we’re left with going in person.”

“Sombra,” Hanzo interrupted. “We are not able storm Geneva.”

The hacker rolled her eyes at the admonishment. “That’s not what I’m suggesting. I found cells in Rio de Janeiro, Calcutta, Milan, and Shanghai. We go, observe, and start surprising Blackwatch instead of the other way around.”

The room went silent at the end of her proposal. Clearly both Hanzo and Jesse were taking this suggestion seriously. The cowboy would wait to see how the archer responded before releasing his own opinion. Hanzo was the one who could make this happen. “This is meant to be just the three of us?”

“It is better that way. Besides you have backup on speed dial. Nor are we really planning on engaging. This is observe and steal information. I’ll teach you how to download entire hard drives and the two of us can get all there is to know about Blackwatch and Overwatch. Jesse there can be our lookout. Sit in bars, look sketchy and eavesdrop on the targets. And tell us when the agents start to head back to their living quarters.” Sombra’s bright description of the plan gained their interest. Even McCree chuckled at the part he was to play.

Hanzo could see the merit in this approach. He pursed his lips in thought. Focusing on Blackwatch was not the main directive of this alliance. Yet it seemed the covert division of Overwatch was equally interested in removing Talon from existence. And there was the possibility that the computers Sombra wanted to hack into would have information regarding the emerging terroristic group. Such information would then be useful in their endeavors against Akande and Talon. When he glanced up from his cup of green tea, Hanzo found both Sombra’s and Jesse’s eyes glued to him, anticipating his reaction. The cowboy actually seemed eager for these new missions.

The heir to the Shimada Clan turned his gaze to the little hacker. “Which city were you thinking of traveling to first? Even if it is just the three of us, transportation and backup still needs to be planned. Shanghai would be a preferred first step.”

Sombra grinned over her cup of tea, eyes lighting up with excitement. “From the staffing of the units, I get the feeling the most interesting stuff is happening in Milan. But Shanghai has plenty to keep us busy.” Her hands spread out a series of holographic screens and she started to detail everything she knew about the location and number of agents in the Chinese city. She at least seemed to accept that Italy was too close to Overwatch’s Headquarters for Shimada’s comfort.

And that was how Hanzo ended up scaling skyscrapers a few days later, while Sombra disabled security systems. Jesse staked out a seedy bar several blocks away, watching the team of Blackwatch operatives taking a night off. Given the chance to study the agents outside of uniform, Jesse pinned their former criminal careers within moments. There were two assassins, a large grunt that failed to meet military standards, and three miscellaneous thieves, hackers and the like. The American biker recognized several tattoos, not to mention his general knowledge about other criminal gangs Deadlock had done business with.

Jesse kept much of his side of the communication line silent so as not to distract the other two. He only chimed in with tidbits of information that he thought would help their cause. Hanzo had just slipped into the hotel room the Blackwatch team used as headquarters for watching Talon’s presence in the city when Sombra called McCree out for unusual behavior. “Where do you think you’re going?”

Hanzo could imagine the cowboy cringe at the accusation. He would be without his black leather hat and telltale vest, looking just as scruffy as the crowd downing cheap beers and roasted peanuts he was mixing in with. “Getting something to drink.”

“I thought we agreed no drinking on the job,” Hanzo said pointedly. He had connected Sombra’s copying machine to the hard drive and was now waiting.

“Come on…” Jesse muttered. “All they’re doing is complaining about some guy named Morrison. I don’t even know him and I don’t like him. Besides it’s just beer. I mean what kind of guy goes to a bar and doesn’t drink.” The gunslinger had them cornered with that statement. Hanzo could not force him to blow his cover because of a couple of beers. It wouldn’t harm McCree’s judgement, seeing as the cowboy was capable of drowning in a bottle of whiskey and still appear to be level headed.

“Stay focused on them,” Sombra warned. She was still on the roof keeping the security systems busy. 

“Right, right, right.” Jesse’s casual dismissal of their concern aggravated Hanzo, but what could he do? He was at least four city blocks away. The archer let it be. They could yell at each other all they wanted when this job was done. McCree’s voice interrupted the silence again. “Hey… Think they know the two groups frequent the same bar?” Hanzo paused, glancing out the window as if he could see Blackwatch and Talon sitting only tables apart.

“Ha!” Sombra didn’t bother holding in her amusement. “It’s probably the only place in town that would serve criminals like you.” 

When Jesse did not immediately reply, Hanzo found he was holding his breath. He knew it was likely to be something as simple as a bar patron passing too close for Jesse to respond. He had to hope that if it was trouble, McCree would not remain silent. The ninja would give anything to be down there watching the gunslinger’s back. “Alright, sweethearts, time to get moving. The _karasu_ are headed out the door.” The American used the Japanese word for black bird as they decided to call Blackwatch in public so McCree could avoid drawing notice. That was Hanzo’s signal to get out of the hotel room.

The copy was not yet finished. “Sombra, there is only seventy percent downloaded.” He received Spanish cursing in return. “Are you able to make it copy faster or must I pull the plug prematurely?”

“Working on it. Come on, Aries, do your thing.” The hacker started to mutter on her end of the line. Hanzo waited. He crept to the window as if he would be able to see the arrival of the Blackwatch unit. Three to four blocks away still gave Hanzo time as the men and women walked back to the hotel.

“Are you two finished yet,” McCree called, surprising them both. “I’m tailing them and they’re getting close.”

“Aries has the copy up to ninety-five percent. We need just a few more seconds. Hanzo, the stairs to the roof should be clear. Jesse, we’ll be dropping down in the back alley beside the grocery. Make sure that’s clear.”

“Got it. They’re entering the hotel. Get out now, or you’ll be in a pickle.” Jesse’s warning brought new urgency to the task. Hanzo was left waiting for the clear from their hacker. He heard the click of they machine just before Sombra announced that her artificial intelligence knockoff had finished. He was already out the door with the copy when the elevator dinged on their floor. Hanzo slipped into the stairwell as silently as he could, having left nothing in the room disturbed. No one should know that anyone had invaded that night. Except for the Overwatch A.I. Athena, but then she should only think someone attempted to hack her systems from the outside.

Now that he was trotting up the stairs, Hanzo announced. “I’m clear of the room. Making my way to the roof. Sombra?”

“Still clear here. No sign of pursuit. Their A.I. doesn’t seem to realize you were present at all. I’m watching the communications from Overwatch analyze mine and Aries’s hacking efforts. From this end, they don’t think anything happened. That their firewalls were successful.” Sombra sounded pleased with herself. She even preened when Hanzo emerged from the stairwell and passed over the hard drive. 

“McCree? Are we clear in the alley?” Hanzo peered over the edge of the building.

“Ground floor is empty. Just waiting on you.” The gunslinger’s voice was loud within the earpiece, but the man was nowhere to be seen in the shadows below. Sombra had already attached her thin wire grappling hook and was repelling down. Hanzo waited until she was clear of the line before attaching his own harness for a quick escape. The moment his feet touched pavement, a heavy arm dropped onto his shoulders. If it hadn’t been a familiar gesture by now, Hanzo’s nerves and automatic reactions would have sent the cowboy flying on to his back. Now it just triggered an annoyed sigh. Jesse continued as if he didn’t recognized the archer’s reaction. “Didn’t think you’d make it, sugar. Come on, let’s get out of here, before they realize their mistake.”

“First sensible idea you had all night,” Hanzo straightened his clothing and started walking. Managing this week long escapade without firing a single shot both impressed the ninja and left him nervous about when things would go wrong. Jesse and Sombra were forced to follow or be left behind. Hanzo wanted to get back to the safety of their hideout about five blocks in the other direction.

The cowboy’s arm settled on Hanzo’s shoulders once again. This time the archer accepted it with an amused smirk. Jesse began chatting as if they weren’t trying to hightail it out of the immediate area. “I think this calls for a celebration.”

“Of course you would. Mind waiting until we’re beyond sight of the hotel?”

“Don’t be like that, darling.”

Sombra groaned from Jesse’s other side. “When will you two just kiss already and knock off the sappy one liners.”

“When will you get off our case,” the cowboy shot back. “It’s none of your business anyway.”

“I work with you and live with you. You’d better believe it’s my business. All this could be condensed into a ‘thanks for not dying’ kiss, and you wouldn’t need to embarrass yourself.”

“I’m of the opinion that Jesse doesn’t understand the definition of embarrassment.” Hanzo supplied. The gunslinger responded with mock surprise.

“You’re supposed to be on my side,” he gaped.

“Jesse, no matter what she says or what we tell her, it won’t change anything. For anyone.” The ninja chuckled at the overdone wounded look from the hacker. At least Jesse’s arm around his shoulders never left. It was a small comfort that Hanzo did not want to loose. And it stayed for the entire walk through the nightly traffic of the Shanghai streets. Nor did anyone bother with a second glance at the three of them. Somehow they looked like a group of kids out to have a good time.

McCree was the one to stop the analysis of the copied hard drive. He firmly set three bottles onto the table. Sake, whiskey and tequila. Three shot glasses and a deck of cards followed. “You can do that later. Right now, we’ve just finished a week of hard work tailing and scouting one of the biggest and baddest organizations in existence. I think we deserve a night off. That information isn’t going anywhere, right Sombra?” Jesse asked as if Overwatch’s A.I. could affect a disconnected CPU.

“No. Aries has it locked down while he fishes through the firewalls for a way in. I’ve already made a backup copy of the copy. So we’re good.” The hacker chirped, pouring herself a shot of tequila. “What are we playing?” She started shuffling the cards.

Hanzo closed the hologram where he composed a report about their successful mission and how they could make the other cities viable targets for future raids. He accepted the cup of sake Jesse poured for him as the cowboy answered the question with, “I’m always game for poker. That is if Hanzo here even knows how to play.”

“I am not unfamiliar with the rules.” The ninja took a sip of the alcohol and allowed the stress of the week to disappear among his jovial friends. This scene was becoming common and Hanzo found he very much enjoyed it. Jesse dealt the cards and they agreed on betting shots. It wasn’t the first time the three of them turned a normal game into a drinking game just for the fun of seeing who would get drunk the fastest. None of them were lightweights either. The night wore on and many rounds in, Hanzo had to pause and study his partner. Hanzo had just lost the third round to the gunslinger and he wanted to know why. “Jesse, how is it you are able to express the gamut of emotions but still be able to bluff your way through a card game?”

The cowboy gave his charmingly soft grin. “Don’t know what to tell you, darling. Just that I know when to hold ‘em,” Jesse’s voice dropped lower with a melodic undertone.

“Don’t you dare,” Hanzo warned. He was not going to get caught up with impromptu karaoke.

“Know when to fold ‘em.” McCree didn’t listen. He started crooning anyway. “Know when to walk away. Know when to run.”

The deep baritone was abruptly interrupted with a mechanically assisted soprano. “I wanna hold ‘em like they do in Texas please. Fold ‘em, let ‘em hit me, raise it baby stay with me.”

“Sombra!” Jesse’s loud protest roared over Hanzo’s gentle chuckles.

“What?” The hacker shrugged innocently. “You have your poker song, I have mine.”

“That isn’t even about poker.”

“So? Your songs aren’t the only ones.”

Hanzo pushed his cards and shot glass to the center of the table. Smile stuck on his face. “It’s official. We are too drunk for this game.”

“I vote we change to Twister!” Sombra’s cheerful cry brought a groan of agony from the cowboy.

“I am not playing that against an acrobat and a ninja. If we play anything else, then we’re playing darts.”

“We don’t have a dartboard, genius.”

Leaving the two Westerners to argue, Hanzo left the table. This had been a productive week and an enjoyable evening. “I’m going to bed.”

Abrupt scraping of wooden chair legs on tile announced that the cowboy had stood to follow. “I’ll join ya.” The man was probably overeager thanks to the alcohol coursing through his system, but Jesse’s company would not be turned away. Not now that they had found an acceptable balance to their growing relationship.

“Ooooh! Jesse! Did you finally get to the point of sharing a bed!” Sombra’s statement ignored the fact that Hanzo was still in the room. It seemed to be something she had pressured Jesse with since Utopaea.

“None of your business, Sombra.” Jesse continued his protests as Hanzo slipped into their bedroom. While it might not have been the best idea to get personally involved with either representative from the strange alliance their organizations had made, Hanzo deemed it to be one of the most worthwhile endeavors he had undertaken. The friendships he gained and defended filled a void he had not realized had been empty. Now he couldn’t imagine life without them.

{}}}}{{{{}

“You wouldn’t believe what I just found,” Sombra cheerfully barged into the small library where Hanzo and Jesse had taken refuge, her face was buried in a holographic screen. They were tucked next to each other in the corner of a couch. Hanzo having just reclined against the cowboy’s broad chest. McCree buried his face into Hanzo shirt with a groan. They had only settled down a moment ago to enjoy quiet time together. “The Vishkar company is planning on infiltrating their own government. Can you believe it? A private company is going to become an authoritative government.” The hacker clearly did not care about privacy.

“Sombra,” Hanzo sighed. “That is all very interesting, but could you not interrupt?”

“What?” Sombra shrugged, glancing away from her screen. “It’s not like you’re doing anything.”

“That’s not the point, Sombra,” McCree pulled back. “Sometimes we want to be left alone.”

The little Mexican woman raised her eyebrows in mock surprise. “So you don’t want to know about the massive Talon transport ship parked in Callao, Peru.”

Hanzo sighed. They had done this several times over the past few months. Sneak up on Blackwatch, gain information about Talon, use said information to disrupt the terrorists, and causing chaos within the Overwatch surveillance team. Jesse had also learned many interesting stories from both sides while sharing a beer with the enemies. Needless to say Overwatch was starting to pay greater attention to Shimada even after the failed attempts to infiltrate and destroy the Clan. Even if this was the job he had taken on, Hanzo wanted a break from all the traveling. A short one was all he asked for. “How long will this transport remain in port?” He asked instead. Behind him Jesse groaned at the prospect of interrupting this time for them.

“I give it about five to seven days. They seem to be loading up for a big job somewhere. Akande’s fingerprints are all over this one. But without slipping into their systems, I can’t say what exactly they’re planning. They’ve been going on about some guy named Lacroix for ages now. While it’s nice that they aren’t focused on us for a change, it makes me nervous to see the amount of effort gone into taking out one man.” Sombra returned her attention to the purple screens floating before her. She did have a point. Talon seemed focused on that one man within Overwatch. Should that focus turn towards the Shimadas then Hanzo knew he was finished. They had to quell the threat before it came to that.

He leaned forward and busied himself with the teapot as a distraction while he thought. Taking out a transport ship would be a big win for them. But it also required more equipment than they had been using. “Do you think you could share the blueprints of the ship with Ren and ask him to contact the demolition team? We need to know exactly where the ship is the weakest if we want to take it out properly. Then we will be able to determine who is best suited for the task.”

Sombra paused to stare at him with shock. “What? You don’t want to go?”

“We are not always needed on the scene. Nor are we necessarily the most suited. Particularly if this involves explosions. If it is something we can handle, then yes, we can go. If it requires more expertise than we three have, then I want the correct people to handle it.” Hanzo pinned the hacker with a nonnegotiable glare. He had to put the safety of the team involved first and foremost. 

“Ugh… Alright. I’ll take this to Ren.” Sombra relented after reigning in a stubborn frown. Just like Jesse, she enjoyed being in the middle of the action. Downtime for too long made them both antsy. 

“Thank you, Sombra,” Hanzo nodded politely as she accepted the delay. “They should have an answer for us within four hours.”

“You won’t regret this, Hanzo!” Then the hacker was gone as fast as she had arrived.

“She’s worse than Genji,” Jesse groaned as the door clicked shut.

“That is debatable.” Hanzo poured them both tea despite the larger man behind him making a nuisance of himself with nosing at the archer’s neck. This was a recently developed behavior. One Hanzo was glad remained private. He still felt self conscious and nervous at accepting the attention. Thankfully Jesse never pushed farther. “You didn’t have to grow up with him.”

“True.” Jesse conceded the point and accepted the teacup pushed into his roaming hands. The cowboy stilled and Hanzo leaned back against his chest fully. One rough hand remained on Hanzo’s abdomen. “But I still say, she’s worse than Genji.” Hanzo hummed in neutrality and simply focused on the radiating warmth behind him. He had grown used to this comfort. And Jesse seemed fine with it as well. At least the man no longer complained nor tried to sneak kisses in what the cowboy deemed ‘perfect moments.’

{}}}}{{{{}

The three of them were lounging in the living space of Hanzo and Jesse’s hotel room. Sombra of course had her own, but preferred to keep them company. Particularly in the nights before any big mission. It gave them time to finalize any plans and voice any new concerns. Tonight seemed like any other pre-mission night. 

Sombra studying her computer screens. She had made some new upgrade that linked her brainpower to her computers in some strange cybernetic way. Whatever worked for her. It didn’t bother Jesse at all. So long as she could still shoot when needed, the hacker could keep updating her tech as much as needed.

He was cleaning his revolver yet again. It wasn’t like the weapon needed it. It didn’t use gunpowder so the residue problem was gone. Still it gave him a sense of calm. Meditative is how Hanzo described it. It was a good word for it. Polishing the well made weapon always made him smile in memory of how he gained it. That was when he realized the yakuza boss in training had actually said and done what the cowboy thought he remembered. That night on the boat slip still felt like a dream. Yet ever since then, he had his archer beside him. Right now Jesse was leaning up agains that very man’s left shoulder in a strangely domestic scene.

Hanzo sat upright and focused on his holographic reader. No doubt filled with the reports and plans for how to place the explosives on the transport ship. Jesse just had to follow directions for this one. Hanzo’s job was to identify the locations. Then between the ninja and hacker they would prepare the bombs. It was a rather elaborate set up. McCree was surprised that the heir to the Shimada Clan agreed that the three of them were all that was needed. Still Sora and Zenkichi had an aerial transport ready several miles away. Just in case. The ninjas always seemed to cover for the worst case scenario. Or at least they tried.

“Ugh, just kiss already. This unrequited love routine is getting old.” Sombra groaned as she caught a glimpse of the two of them stealing glances at the other. She had been on their case since they first met her. Now Jesse was done.

“That’s it. It’s bedtime.” He put down his revolver and polishing cloth on the coffee table so he could stand. From there it was only two steps to Sombra’s chair and hoisting the little hacker over his shoulder.

“HEY! Put me down!” The Mexican woman protested at the top of her lungs.

“This is why you have your own room. So you don’t have to bother us with your opinion.” Jesse dropped her outside the door to the so call ‘boys’ room’ with a firm, _”Buenas noches.”_ The gunslinger ignored the rude Spanish streaming in his direction. “Goodnight, Sombra!” Jesse shut the door firmly. Though he knew full well that the hacker could get past the lock, the message was sent loud and clear. Leave them alone.

Returning to the couch where he had been reclining against his archer, Jesse dropped back over the armrest so his head landed in Hanzo’s lap. It forced the ninja to save his reader by throwing out his arms in surprise, but both of them quickly returned to the peaceful rest they had before Sombra’s interruption. Jesse had taken his hat into hand before he made this move and now rested it on his chest so he could gaze up at his partner’s face pinched in concentration. Then out of nowhere the ninja asked absently, “So it’s unrequited love now, is it?”

“Apparently whatever we have is not strong enough for her.” Jesse shrugged. Sombra’s opinion in this didn’t matter like it once did. The cowboy had finally accepted what Hanzo was comfortable with and knew without a doubt that the archer shared his love as freely as he understood it. The fact that Jesse could lay like this and have the heir to the strongest criminal organization west of the Pacific Ocean merely glance at him with fond exasperation said everything. Not that Jesse didn’t still try to get further, but he was not nearly as frustrated with being rebuffed has he had in the beginning.

“And we’re supposed to kiss,” Hanzo asked archly as if all previous statements and encouragements had never happened. His eyes also never left the reader’s screen. 

Jesse found himself grinning at the display of boredom and disinterest. “Well, I won’t complain either way you look at it.”

There was a pause and Hanzo’s eyes glanced towards Jesse ever so briefly. If the cowboy had not had his gaze glued to his archer’s face, McCree might have missed it. “Maybe tomorrow.” Then the heir returned his attention to the reader as if nothing had happened.

Jesse’s grin turned into a perplexed expression. This was a new statement. He placed his hat over his face as he thought. Something had changed and he couldn’t figure out what. That probably bothered him more than not being able to kiss the beautiful man above him. After several moments of trying to figure out those two words, Jesse removed his hat and said, “You know I’m going to ask you why.”

“I was wondering.”

“So, why? Why ‘maybe tomorrow?’”

Hanzo finally put the reader on the armrest and gave a small frown in its direction before releasing a heavy sigh. When he finally made eye contact with Jesse, the American biker swore he saw a trace of fear. “When I kiss you, I do not want to remember the night I had to resuscitate you.” Hanzo’s voice was steady. Made more powerful by the brief hesitation and the deep pain within those pretty brown eyes. This was the most vulnerable Jesse had ever seen his partner and that scared him.

He did not have a quick answer to that simple statement. Somehow he had forgotten, or never acknowledge, what it must have taken for his partner to preform the lifesaving technique and still be able to keep a straight face with that memory burned in the man’s brain. Suddenly everything his archer had done or said to rebuff Jesse’s attempts to kiss him made perfect sense. And Jesse had been a fool to not understand it before now. Before words found him, Jesse reached over and pulled Hanzo’s left hand into his own right and gave it a gentle squeeze of reassurance. “If you don’t make new memories, then the old ones never fade.” He took that hand and pressed it to his lips. All the while maintaining a soft, accepting gaze up into Hanzo’s eyes.

Keeping his archer’s hand in his own, clasped over his chest, Jesse replaced the hat over his eyes. He pretended to doze, giving Hanzo the privacy needed to deal with whatever emotions were coursing through his head. Slowly, Jesse felt the body beneath him relax. The powerful thighs he used as a pillow loosened. The fingers within his grip slackened momentarily then gave a gentle increase in pressure that let Jesse know things would be all right. Then fingers carding through his hair caught the cowboy by surprise. It was new and welcomed. Jesse found himself dozing with the tender touch winding along his scalp. They sat like that for an unknown length of time. Jesse knew he had drifted off to sleep when Hanzo woke him by shaking his shoulder. 

“It’s time for bed.” His partner took the cowboy hat in hand so they could transfer from the couch to the bed. 

McCree stretched, watching Hanzo carefully place the leather hat on the dresser. “You know she’s going to barge in on us in the morning, demanding to know what happened.” Jesse recalled how he had forced Sombra out of their room before listening to Hanzo’s confession. It seemed so long ago already.

“No. This time I believe she will wait until after breakfast. She still needs her coffee first thing in the morning. And there is none in her room this time.” Hanzo turned from the dresser to where Jesse was already undressing for bed. They had shared a bedroom frequently outside of Hanamura so he was no longer uncomfortable changing in front of his partner. “Jesse?” Hanzo’s query caught him bare chested and working on undoing his jeans. McCree paused, a little uncertain about the direction of the conversation. The archer glanced back to the cowboy hat before pinning Jesse with that intense gaze of his. “You really wouldn’t complain?” He asked as if he couldn’t believe Jesse’s promise after all the previous attempts to get intimate with the heir to the Shimada Clan.

“Neither way.” Jesse gave his partner a confident grin. They had reached a new stage in their relationship. It was no longer new and exciting, though still filled with experimentations and pushing against Hanzo’s boundaries. There was always something he could try to get closer to that elusive kiss. But as he had just said, he was not going to complain if that kiss never happened. Jesse found plenty of enjoyment in the man’s company. All physicality became secondary to making his archer smile.

Hanzo simply nodded and moved to his side of the bed to resume preparing for sleep. Where Jesse slept in boxers, Hanzo preferred satin or cotton pajamas depending on the weather. They had slept in the same bed several times now after that stargazing session. All in hotels while on these crazy missions. The castle seemed to be off limits for now.

Jesse barely remembered all that happened during that night in the holographic park, but he did remember waking up in Hanzo’s arms and thinking that Hanzo’s broad and firm chest made for an excellent headrest. Once both were tucked under the covers, the ninja leaned over and whispered into Jesse’s ear, “Thank you.” A soft, dry peck on his cheekbone sent a rush of heat surging through McCree’s body. That tiny kiss overloaded Jesse’s senses, threatened to shut down his brain and he still ached for more.

Instead Jesse reached out under the covers with his left hand and found Hanzo’s right. He gripped the familiar appendage reassuringly. His partner was all nerves and anxiety in how stiff he lay next to the gunslinger. It was just like the first time Jesse remembered sharing a bed with the ninja. Jesse just needed to remind his archer that this didn’t change anything. That the cowboy would not push intimacy any faster than Hanzo was ready. Slowly Hanzo relaxed into sleep. McCree shifted to lay on his side and watch his partner sleep. The worry lines so pronounced in the waking hours smoothed away by the serene expression only found once Hanzo accepted that his rest was protected by someone he trusted. Considering their lives, Jesse felt honored to see such a beautiful face and it was something he never wanted to disturb.

{}}}}{{{{}

Under cover of the early morning darkness and fog, Hanzo helped Sombra navigate their speedboat through the waters towards the massive transport ship. The engine was off to give them the element of surprise. Hanzo and Jesse were paddling as silently as they could. Beside them were four large explosives that needed to be fixed to the hull of the seafaring vessel. Sombra had the schematics on call. According to the demolition team, each bomb had to be placed at or below the waterline to do the most damage. 

Hanzo still couldn’t believe he was out here on the water doing a job better suited to that very same demolition team he had taken the advice from. It hadn’t sounded like a difficult task as he learned the details. And Sombra thought she could get some much needed information from the ship’s computers if only she could get close enough to hack its network. Of course, Hanzo had to be there with her. He was required to keep track of their alliance representatives. So McCree naturally followed. But now that he was here, he wished he had pushed harder against doing this mission himself. The memories of the ocean were not fond ones.

Still this mission did take the three of them. Turned out that Jesse was the only one tall enough to lean out from the speedboat and affix the bombs to the side of the ship. Hanzo could keep them as steady as possible in the rolling waves. And Sombra knew the activation code by heart and was able to rig the detonator without hesitation. So the ease of this first part of the mission worried Hanzo. McCree had once said that it felt like the second shoe was about to drop.

Inevitably as they were clearing the vessel a shout from the decks alerted the soldiers to their presence. Even as silent as they had been Talon found them. A grenade launched from the deck of the transport knocked the small craft dangerously close to capsizing. All Hanzo could see was the black waters reaching out towards them. Then the bombs they placed exploded rocking their boat even further. Waves and fire roared with the force of the blast. Sombra kicked the speedboat into gear in attempts to clear the overwhelming power of nature and man.

When they finally settled, rocking against the aftermath, Hanzo noticed that they were missing someone important. Jesse.

“Turn around!” he shouted to Sombra who was already complying. Hanzo scanned the choppy waves for the cowboy in black. The familiarity of the scene clenched his heart in a cold vice. Stone filled his gut with every second his partner was missing. Then he saw the man treading water, clearly looking for them. Hanzo dove into the ocean without a second thought, ignoring Sombra’s shout for him to wait. A life preserver landed next to him when he surfaced. Grabbing it, he swam determinedly to the floundering cowboy who still insisted on wearing the heavy armor and leather despite the mission involving boats. 

Hanzo passed the flotation device to McCree and was about to call for Sombra to bring them in when he saw the black Stetson innocently floating on the waves. He swam to grab it first before latching onto the life preserver. Jesse was coughing again, but this time he was conscious. Hanzo made sure his partner did not loose his grip on the red piece of foam as Sombra reeled them in. With her help the waterlogged cowboy climbed back onto the speedboat. Hanzo was right behind. 

The only thing that kept them from being torn apart by Talon’s heavy guns blasting the waves around them was the darkness and the severe damage they had done to the ship. It wouldn’t last. But at least it was enough for now.

He gave his partner a once over and determined that Jesse was no worse for wear after going overboard. With his heart pounding from fear of loosing his cowboy once again, Hanzo made a decision. There really wasn’t enough time to put more thought into this. He pulled the taller man down into a frantic sloppy kiss, trying to make up for the terrified emotions and desperation in facing the possibility loosing this man again. His right hand with the cowboy hat hooked around Jesse’s neck and his left wrapped around the man’s waist. He pulled Jesse tightly against him and felt the man huff in surprise then sink into the kiss.

“Finally.” Sombra grinned and kicked the speedboat into high gear. The sudden change of speed sent the two of them into the bench seat at the back of the boat. Jesse landed first with a grunt that broke the kiss. Hanzo landed in the cowboy’s lap, straddling the man’s thighs. It felt awkward, but he wasn’t about to move now.

“I can swim, you know.” McCree chuckled, seemingly oblivious to the situation or the intense stress he caused the ninja.

“You are a horrible swimmer,” Hanzo shoved the soaked Stetson into Jesse’s chest.

Jesse took his hat in his right hand and placed it on Hanzo’s head. Then used those fingers to caress Hanzo’s cheek. “Does this mean that those boundaries can be pushed now?” Jesse gave a lopsided grin, knowing he had gained the result he always wanted. Hanzo’s right hand immediately replaced the cowboy’s to keep the Stetson in place against the raging wind created by the speedboat.

“You are insufferable,” Hanzo sighed. He answered that question by leaning in for a slower, inquisitive kiss. Jesse received the inexperienced kiss without forcing anything deeper. All Hanzo felt was gentle pressure against his lips, encouragement to continue this new experiment. An aching warmth built within his gut, balancing the freezing saltwater clinging to his clothes. Strange yet comforting. This new experience washed away all bitter memories of the incident on the boat slip. Warm, welcoming lips replaced the recollection of a cold unresponsive mouth. Hanzo sought to burn away that horrific night with this unexpected desire for his cowboy.

The roar of the engine and rushing wind created a small envelope of imagined privacy. The sensation lasted for several amazing moments. When they separated Jesse was breathing heavily and gazed up into Hanzo’s eyes. The archer could see wonder in the deep amber eyes. He was watching Jesse realize that his desires were now within reach. Hanzo managed to contain his own surprisingly deep breaths and smiled down at his cowboy. The gunslinger’s gentle thumb rubbed against his cheek. Hanzo tilted the hat back and leaned forward to rest his forehead against Jesse’s. He breathed in the wet scent of leather and convinced himself that Jesse was not going anywhere. 

Too soon, Sombra pulled the speedboat into the dock. “Alright, loverboys. Get this thing tied up. We got to get moving before Talon decides to come after us. We managed to avoid other attacks because that blast was devastating to their ship. But you can bet they’ll recover quickly.” Hanzo was the first to break eye contact and expectantly had to be the first one to move. He leapt light footed onto the docks and secured the rope to the tie downs. It wasn’t until Jesse plucked the hat from his head did Hanzo realize that he still wore the accessory. 

“Though you look good in the hat, I feel rather naked without it.” Jesse grinned, settling the black leather Stetson onto his own head. Only to swagger off towards the hacker.

Hanzo stared after the gunslinger slack jawed. The damn man was still hitting on him. The archer tightened his expression and joined McCree and Sombra. A small memory rose to the surface of his thoughts as they made their way through the streets, seawater dripping from their clothes. “Jesse, before you get too overconfident… You’re mine tonight.” Hanzo smirked sidelong at his cowboy. 

Jesse actually paused as his mind processed the statement. Then winced. Hanzo thought the matter settled until the gunslinger linked arms and stepped in front of him. A sly grin filled the face below the black Stetson. “Actually, I don’t think it is. I don’t really understand. I think you need to do it again.”

The laughter started slow with a tightly contained smile and shoulders shaking. His cowboy took a step back cautiously studying the new development. Off to the side Sombra shook her head with an expression that said she had been waiting for this day for far too long. The whole scene was absurd. They had just blown up a tanker full of Talon operatives and their equipment. Hanzo and Jesse were drenched. They should be seeking cover from retaliation. And yet they were arguing over whether the kiss settled a bet they made a couple of years ago.

Uncontrollably his attempt to hide the smile failed. Soon the betraying grin spread across his face as his laughter overtook his sensibilities. A deep throated chuckled emerged first. His eyes squeezed shut from the depth of his mirth. It was too much to handle. He let loose the unhindered laugh that consumed him. How far had he come by simply being in the presence of this absurd cowboy. 

As his laughter died out he heard the soft chuckles of his cowboy and the snickering from the hacker. They had definitely come a long way together. Jesse linked arms with him again and leaned down to whisper, “You should cut loose more often. You are absolutely beautiful like that.” The gunslinger pressed a chaste kiss to Hanzo’s cheek, then started to pull away.

Hanzo stopped him with a tight grip on his cowboy’s hand. “Flattery will get you nowhere. And it won’t change that you are mine tonight.” Jesse groaned and relented. A grin consumed him as a new thought came to mind. “Sombra, do you think the circus is still in town?”

“Of course. Want to go tonight?” She was already pulling up the screen ready to purchase the tickets. 

“This afternoon. Might keep Talon off our tails while they recover. We’ll have to leave after the show. I’ll let Zenkichi know to keep the plane ready. But we definitely can spare a few hours after we take a nap.” It was barely sunrise and Hanzo felt immensely accomplished. Stones and butterflies were gone. Just the warm sensation that he would not be alone remained. The dark intensity with which Jesse gazed down at him, told the Shimada heir that there was much more to explore than that first desperate kiss. At that moment, Hanzo thought he was finally ready.


	16. Unwelcomed Attention

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A relationship explored. New concerns arise. Increased scrutiny. And by the way... Welcome to Overwatch.

**Chapter Sixteen: Unwelcomed Attention**

A golden tinged sky flanked the majestic volcano soaring in the distance. The familiar backdrop to the expansive cityscape eased much of Hanzo’s lingering anxiety. Beside him stood the solid American biker. Jesse had left his Stetson and cigar beside the deckchairs to join the archer at the railing. Together they watched the magnificent sunset. It was the first private moment the two had shared since collapsing into their hotel bed despite the adrenaline of their first kiss. 

Hanzo still could barely believed he had done that. Yet as he glanced over to where McCree leaned his forearms on the sturdy railing, Hanzo almost understood why Jesse had wanted that kiss to begin with. The sudden rush of emotional release. A tangible expression of wordless desires. The completion of an unsaid thought passing between them. It was easily an addicting experience. Though immediately following their return to the hotel, both had been exhausted enough to pass out without further exploration. Or conversation.

From that point their visit to the circus had been spontaneous and worth every absurd moment. After the main show, Jesse had challenged them to a shootout in one of the side games. Sitting there with a water gun aimed at a target in order to blow up a balloon was hardly an accurate measure of their skills. Still Jesse’s boisterous laughter filled the air. Daring them all to beat him. Ultimately Hanzo and Jesse tied. The cowboy walked out with an actual sombrero and Hanzo tucked a sombrero wearing Pachimari under his arm. Somehow Sombra beat both of them. They were certain she hacked the game, but neither of them were going to call her out on it. She took home the largest teddybear they had ever seen. 

Those memories were interrupted by a gentle touch to the small of the archer’s back. Glancing over at Jesse, Hanzo took note of the gunslinger’s uncharacteristically stoic gaze. It did not match the unusually possessive gesture. Whatever thoughts clouded his cowboy’s mind, Hanzo needed to know. “Jesse?” The heir to the Shimada Clan received only a distracted hum. Apparently his partner was not in the mood for conversation. Hanzo reclined into Jesse’s shoulder and let the sun dip below the horizon. He would ask later what could divert the biker from the moment. “Things have changed.” Instead the archer brought up the first thought in his mind. One that should have been clarified before they left the hotel.

“Hmm?” McCree drew back and Hanzo caught the questioning look.

“Since the boat.” Hanzo found it odd to refer to their first kiss. Was it normal to simply discuss such things?

“Not at all, darling.” Jesse demeanor was dismissive. The cowboy acted as through that one action had not placed Hanzo’s path on an unknown trajectory. 

“They have.” He insisted. From his viewpoint he was in a different world. 

The gunslinger shook his head, trying to give a reassuring smile. “Nothing’s changed.” The arm around Hanzo’s waist belied that simple statement.

With sharp words the ninja retaliated. “Yes, Jesse, they have.” Hanzo watched the cowboy recoil as if physically struck. The taller man took a half step back, hands wide. Clearly Jesse didn’t want to misstep again. That might have been an overreaction on both their parts, but Hanzo refused to have his concerns rejected. “Everything has changed. Your expectations of this relationship, to mine. And what you will consider acceptable.”

“Maybe your expectations have changed, but Hanzo… Mine never have.” Jesse’s gaze softened into what Hanzo now recognized as the man treasuring the intimate scene. The heavily calloused right hand that used to only know the grip of a revolver cupped Hanzo’s jawline tenderly. When had the archer become so accustomed to this touch? When had he started to crave more? “If anything, you’re just going to have to get used to me taking longer showers,” Jesse started again with a lopsided grin. “Occasionally waking up to morning wood.” Amusement flickered behind those eyes.

Hanzo wrinkled his nose in distaste at those references. “I already do.”

The cowboy’s grin only grew. “And one thing that will never change is that you will be able to knock me flat on my ass if I ever try anything you don’t like. And you can’t say that I haven’t been trying to get you in my bed since I figured out what made you tick. So all that’s left is, what has changed for you?” Jesse’s statements were clear and made perfect sense.

So what had changed for him? The hand against his cheek for one. Crawling into bed next to this man he found intriguing, sleeping beside him, held within those thick forearms. Running his hand through the wild chestnut hair while Jesse’s head rested in his lap. Tucking his own arms around broad shoulders to embrace the other man when relaxing on the steps of the temple. Sharing cups of tea or liquor in spare moments. Laughing at their mishaps and close calls once the terror of the moment passed. 

Trust. A deeply rooted sense of trust had grown within Hanzo. Hanzo had extended a great sense of faith in a man who had come from another world with an agenda all his own. He found the man interesting and contradicting. Now as he gazed up into the amber eyes with slight crinkling around the edges where the fond smile creased Jesse’s face, Hanzo couldn’t imagine a day without the strange cowboy. Though he could not currently summon the same intense emotions that led to each admission of affection. To be as free with expression as Jesse would be ideal, yet he could not bring himself to that level even when part of him wanted it. 

With a heavy sigh Hanzo laced his fingers through Jesse’s hand on his cheek. “Jesse… You express yourself so easily. How?”

McCree shrugged and let his smile soften. “Just do. Look Hanzo, if this is about the kiss and the potential for future ones, then you are going to have to get used to a few surprise pecks on the cheek. I’d go in for full ones, but I get the feeling you aren’t quite ready. Though I won’t deny that what I really want is to rip those clothes off you and find out how you taste.” The dark look within Jesse’s eyes turned absolutely lewd. Logically Hanzo knew what should follow such a scene. Now he could only chuckle and shake his head at the audacity of his partner.

“Maybe in the next hotel.” Hanzo relented. Here within his own house he could not justify the experimentation. There were too many eyes. Too many demands on his time. Too many opportunities for interruption. But when it came to their missions abroad, they had much more leeway. And less family members.

“You’re on.” The overconfident grin returned to the biker’s face. Jesse leaned down and pressed his lips to Hanzo’s right cheek. Light and warm. A far cry from the carnal desires stirring within Jesse’s powerful frame.

Twisting, Hanzo pulled Jesse’s right arm across his shoulders and leaned against the taller man’s expansive chest. Their intertwined hands hovered hover the archer’s heart. There were several more hours until sleep demanded attention, pulling them away into their separate rooms. Hanzo was determined to make the most of it as he did in all things. The radiating heat behind him said Jesse craved more but he kept his touch chaste and above the belt. Ever a man of contradictions.

Viewing the twinkling lights of the cityscape replacement for the stars, Hanzo’s mind wandered away from the moment. He honestly did try to keep it in the growing affection he felt towards his partner. But it was almost guaranteed that he would leave any romantic thought behind to chase the heels of paranoia. The question he should have asked when faced with the distant gaze of his cowboy was why. What had captivated the biker’s attention and stirred the man’s protective streak. What had he learned from Tony Hopkins that would disrupt a pleasant evening. That was the only explanation for the deep seated stoicism. 

With a sigh, Hanzo tugged Jesse’s arms closer. He made the decision not to let their opposing backgrounds disrupt the momentary pleasures both of them could find. Either McCree would be man enough to confront Hanzo when the betrayal came, or he would truly be a snake in the grass and the heir to the Shimada Clan would die thinking the best of this gunslinger. At the moment Hanzo did not want to know the truth. Or any potentials. He was tired of planning for every treachery. If only the worst that could happen were for this to be nothing more than a brief affair for the American.

The strength of his own affections were real. Wanting something longterm shouldn’t be out of the question. Still if these bubbled moments were just fantasies trying to come true. Hanzo would try hang on to them just a little longer.

}{{{}}}{

Another meeting. Another opportunity to hear the same suspicions. Hanzo sat beside his father as he always did. His father ran the meeting with the same quiet determination he always had. The cancer and its treatment still wore out the oyabun far faster than in the past, but Sojiro continued to persevere. Hanzo was amazed by his father’s strength. In return Shimada’s oldest son tried to step in and cover for the oyabun whenever the illness consumed Sojiro’s spirit. It took Hanzo away from his chosen task of hunting down Talon. And away from investigating the new aspect of his relationship with Jesse. But this was his duty as son and heir.

Despite their differences in private regarding Hanzo’s frontline approach in dealing with Talon and Blackwatch, father and son were able to appear unified before the Council. And the Council of Elders retreated in attempting to guide Hanzo’s every move. That was more important than ever as Hanzo would seamlessly start directing these meetings should his father’s health reach a weak point. Today however Sojiro seemed to be his strong, confident self. 

The first order of business had nothing of note. A simple update on their companies and fronts. Next came the list of contracts for the ninja. Those completed. Those in progress. And those that failed. Hanzo narrowed his eyes at the last list. Five of their contracts had been interrupted. Five clients who would take their business elsewhere. Not enough to ruin the Shimada reputation, but it was enough to pull their skills into question. All they all had a similar story.

“The reports describe soldiers in blue coats pulling the target to safety before our ninja could begin. Two describe being accosted by a team in black uniforms. Sora has identified both uniforms as belonging to Overwatch and Blackwatch, respectively.” Hanzo’s cousin, Yasuo read off these reports. Shinya’s oldest son was a new addition to the Council meetings. He had just retired himself from the field after sustaining a significant back injury. A younger perspective was greatly appreciated. He and Hanzo were not the best of friends, unlike Hanzo and a few of his more distant cousins, but they got along well enough. At least the heir believed so. They had not had missions together since the early days out of training. “These would make seventeen attacks on our resources to date. Including the multiple cyberattacks and three failed attempts to disrupt other assassination contracts. Sombra and Ren have kept up their surveillance and suggest Blackwatch has increased their activity after Hanzo disabled the Talon troop transport.”

All eyes went to the Shimada heir. Hanzo steeled his emotions and waited for the next accusation to fall. The oyabun’s questions surprised them all. “What of Talon’s activity? Has Blackwatch increased their surveillance of them? Or have they increased their counters to Overwatch?”

Yasuo flipped through holographic pages of his reports. “Ren made note of a decrease in Talon activity and resources. They have returned to collecting people and weapons. There also does not seem to be a change in Blackwatch’s surveillance of known Talon cells.”

That was news to Hanzo. They had put a significant dent in Talon’s plans. As expected. But in return they had gained the acute attention of the worldwide law enforcement organization funded by the United Nations. Not at all desired.

Sojiro nodded. “Then we will have to be more vigilant during our current contracts. And more circumspect in accepting new ones. With Overwatch placing their agents where they are not wanted, we must accept a degree of uncertainty. Continue to infiltrate their communications and seek a way to step ahead of their scrutiny. Our primary focus is removing Talon as a threat to our industry. One group of police is the same as another. Now that we are aware of their presence, we can subvert their actions.”

A concise group voice sounded, “Yes, oyabun.”

“The next order of business is repairing the damage. Yasuo, how many contracts have we lost because of these failures.” Sojiro’s eyes browsed through the screens. Of the proposed targets listed Hanzo could only see three their family would accept.

“Two. Those two were ones intercepted by Overwatch. The clients did not wish for us to attempt a second time. These current opportunities have not accepted any bids nor set preferences.” Yasuo pointed to the relevant names. The leader of the Shimada Clan frowned. Something in that list displeased Hanzo’s father. He couldn’t see it himself. Hanzo only saw names of high ranking political officials in China and Indonesia.

“Do not accept these contracts. Finish the ones we have. The fronts will provide sufficient funding until a new list emerges.” The oyabun pushed away from the table. “What are the other concerns?” Silence answered this question. Hanzo felt the tension as though the whole room was forgetting something important. None of them brought forth further concerns. So it was assumed they had covered the current issues. Sojiro nodded. “Shore up the technological defenses. They do not need to know our every move. If that is all, then this meeting is adjourned.” The other men in the room filtered out. Hanzo stood too as his uncles set to depart. “Hanzo, there are questions in your eyes. We will talk privately.”

The heir to the Shimada Clan returned to his seat and watched his father closely. Along the way he had forgotten how much the oyabun saw and understood. Hanzo waited. His questions were many. Once it was only father and son and a dozen of holographic screens, Hanzo reached out to pull the names of the targets into primary focus. The ones his father refused to take on. He tried to place why.

“For now, those leaders have gained the sympathies of the United Nations. During your travels, you have missed the headlines. All of these were seen in Geneva within the last month.” Sojiro explained thumbing through the photo gallery until he found the very picture of the Indonesian Governor standing next to the Strike Commander of Overwatch. “What I have found surprising was that your interference in Talon’s shipping lines did not make the news. That does deserve acknowledgment.”

Hanzo arched an eyebrow in astonishment. “You have been monitoring our progress?”

“Do you write those reports for them to sit collecting virtual dust?” The glint of amusement filled his father’s eyes. Sojiro must be feeling strong in body to find humor in paperwork. Hanzo quirked a small smile in response. Just when he had grown tired of the mission reports, he learned his father still suffered the same self imposed torture. “You will find the messages from Hopkins and Sosa of interest. The rest of the Council are already aware. These came while you were occupied with the attack on the Talon tanker.”

Two brief messages appeared on the screen before him. Hanzo scrolled through the transcripts between the three leaders of the strange criminal alliance. His father’s separate conversations with both. Sosa reported an increase in confrontations with black clad soldiers. Hopkins described military precision and small scale warfare from the masked men trying to poke their heads into his town. Both thanked the improved warning provided by Sombra’s hacking and Shimada’s insights in defeating those assaults. Overall it appeared Blackwatch was attempting to sabotage all sides with minimal success. 

Hanzo cocked his head towards his father. “Is this your way of saying that we are on the right track?” The increase in pressure from Blackwatch might not seem to be progress, but it did seem to indicate that Talon did not have the manpower to harass the alliance. It also meant their forays succeeded in uncovering necessary intelligence. 

“I am saying that your unorthodox trips have paid off.” The oyabun turned off the screens to face his son properly. “If judicial in further exploits, the power of disruption and information will lay in our hands.” That was better validation than Hanzo was expecting. It meant his voyages beyond the castle walls would continue. His father would never give his outright approval, but at least it seemed he understood the importance of these missions. Despite not bringing in income and having gained the increased ire of Overwatch. Though perhaps it was time to lie low for awhile. Let Blackwatch expose themselves further.

Yet he felt that the sentiment in the meeting vastly disagreed with the oyabun’s assessment of these outings. “Yasuo does not seem pleased with these excursions.” Hanzo remarked. Even if his father silently supported Hanzo’s endeavors, it felt necessary to bring up the Council’s displeasure.

The graying hair swayed as the master of the Shimada Clan leaned forward. “Your cousin is still adjusting to life behind a desk. He would much rather join you than read about the missions.”

“Father, it feels more personal than that.” Hanzo’s voice was quiet compared to the absolute confidence he usually portrayed. It was a moment of self doubt that crept up on him occasionally. And it was almost always because of his cousins and uncles. He did not know how to gain their confidences when they seemed to desire his failure.

Sojiro sighed heavily and left the table. Clinks of porcelain caused Hanzo to glance up to see his father preparing tea. “There is nothing I can do to prepare you for any private grudge that may arise. Know that you are the best trained person to take my place. Do you remember what I told you about accidents of birth?” The painted blue dragon tea set found its way to the table. Hanzo nodded as he took over the preparations by pouring the tea.

“My uncles and cousins could be capable as oyabun save birth.”

“Correct. But it won’t stop some from believing they deserve the position more than you. Some will harbor resentment, question everything you do or say. Others will let it fester and seek to make your job more difficult. Still there are others who will say nothing and do nothing until their resentment becomes hatred and they strike out suddenly. Some you will recognize and be able to watch or turn their emotions to your favor. For the others you will have to rely on your staff and those closest to you. Grudges are difficult to monitor. Yasuo would not be the first to believe he is more capable to lead the Clan than you or I. It seems to be the fate of younger brothers to want what the elder has. Seeking to feel superior in some aspect of life.” When Sojiro paused to study the tinted tea water, the silence dropped around them with substantial weight. Made more burdensome by the reference to the absent Genji. The oyabun took a slow breath before continuing. Obviously seeking strength. “Shinya and I have already discussed Yasuo’s position within the Clan. We both agreed that should your brother not seek to uphold the Clan’s values, that Yasuo would make an excellent second-in-command. But that is not something either of us could force on you.”

Hanzo nodded. “I see. Now I must wonder if he will support me or seek to replace me.” The simple observation wounded the heir more as he watched his father nod wearily. This was one aspect of leadership Hanzo had not yet had to confront. Now that it was before him, he could see how exhausted his father was from keeping the bulk of internal strife from him. Hanzo would have to step up to take this burden. It was not new. He had experienced it when the Council sought to punish Genji and it led to that horrific battle between brothers. Hanzo just had not known the depth of the discontent. It was up to him to prove himself capable and deserving.

Leadership was lonely.

Unbidden a image of the American in the black Stetson, grinning cheerfully around a cigar, flashed through his mind. Jesse McCree provided an escape to these mind numbing conspiracy theories. And presented ones of his own. Hanzo hoped those at least where products of his imagination instead of the harsh reality within the Shimada Clan.

Together father and son sipped the tea and wished for alternatives. Neither were needed elsewhere which gave both time to consider the future. Hanzo tried to reconcile his emotions. Sojiro tried to accept his legacy.

The teapot was long empty when Sojiro finally leaned back into his chair. Hanzo glanced up at the movement. He met kind, world weary eyes. “Hanzo. The only advice I can give you is to find someone you are able to trust unconditionally. Though any disagreement. Through any conflict. I had your mother for such a short time, but it made the rest of the job much easier. You will find that the amount of faith placed in the person you sleep next to nightly is staggering. But worth it.”

Hanzo nodded hesitantly. Only one face arose with this description. And with it came so many more questions. First and foremost was whether the gunslinger from Deadlock wanted a long term relationship.

{}}}}{{{{}

Turned out the next hotel was in the outskirts of Singapore. The Talon resource collection team was destroyed. It had taken two teams. One led by Hanzo and the other by Sora. Jesse was comfortable with both ninjas by now that he only teasingly complained when placed on Sora’s team. Now it was over and they could recover before retreating back to Shimada Castle. And Jesse only had one thing on his mind.

“What do you mean not tonight?” He hadn’t even had a chance to suggest anything. Jesse shut the door harder than necessary from surprise. He honestly hadn’t thought Hanzo remembered the throwaway statement weeks ago. To start their private time with the simple declaration of ‘not tonight’ completely blindsided the gunslinger. 

“I mean that I am exhausted and only want a shower and sleep.” The archer was already removing his uniform. 

Jesse knew he should just capitulate and give up on the evening. But he had been waiting for this opportunity from the moment the yakuza boss in training had first allowed Jesse to touch him. The kiss just solidified it in his mind. He reached out and as his hand brushed the tattooed shoulder he was met with a pointed glare. Jesse rolled his eyes and left the hand on Hanzo’s smooth skin and tight muscle. The archer was in quite a mood after all the hand to hand combat. He spoke gently, not trying to do more than encourage. “Hanzo, we’re not going anywhere tomorrow. Let’s sit on the couch and just relax for awhile.”

A slight drop in the tension behind Hanzo’s deep brown eyes was the only indication that the archer had changed his mind. “I’m still getting a shower.” That and he did not forcibly remove the cowboy’s hand.

“I could always join you,” Jesse grinned. He received the bemused smirk in return. Immediately followed by Hanzo jerking the cowboy hat over Jesse’s face. His archer moved away while Jesse reoriented his hat.

In the distance Hanzo called out, “I’ll take you to a proper _onsen_ when we return.” Jesse chuckled at the thought of going to a hot spring resort with the other man. That was an idea he had not ever considered. He might have gotten further faster if he had known about that vacation option.

Divesting himself of his armor and most of his garments to the sound running water, Jesse lounged on the couch in jeans and an undershirt. His feet propped up on the coffee table sans boots. Hat tossed onto the pile of clothing in the chair. His revolver was the only thing to keep him company while he waited. It was well made and seldom needed polishing. Yet cleaning his gun always calmed him down after a fight. Not that he saw much action today. Compared to Hanzo, Jesse’s day had been a walk in the park.

It had been a toss up as to who would encounter the main force. Apparently Talon had grouped up on the railroad side of the warehouse. The fighting there had been fierce. By the time Jesse and his team had arrived to help, Talon had been eliminated. Hanzo more than deserved his shower. Jesse needed one as well, but he would take it closer to bed. He anticipated needing the extra time.

“I have come to the conclusion that your revolver receives the bulk of your attention.” Hanzo announced himself. Standing in the doorway wearing his silk blue pajama bottoms and dark green cotton yukata, the archer ran his fingers through the ink black hair. Needless to say Jesse was captivated. And Hanzo didn’t look like he understood how attractive he had just made himself.

The gunslinger put away his revolver and grinned. “You don’t even match.”

“You’ve remarked repeatedly that the whole point was to remove clothing. So why would it matter?” Hanzo’s arched eyebrow stating how much of an idiot the cowboy was being did nothing to dissuade Jesse from leaping over the couch and pulling the ninja into his arms. He relished the feel of each muscle group rolling against the other as Hanzo adjusted position.

Gazing down into his partner’s brown eyes, rich as a cup of coffee, Jesse prompted. “What changed your mind?”

“Relaxing while doing something completely different from my normal routine was suggested. Though if the offer has been rescinded, I do have a routine to follow.” Hanzo teased, dropping his own arms onto Jesse’s shoulders. He could feel those fingers accustomed to drawing a bowstring clasping the base of his neck, encouraging him to lean down. Those eyes were something to get lost in.

“Say no more, darling,” Jesse groaned, giving in to the insistent tug at his neck. Plunging down into the waiting mouth answered all his prayers. Warm and inviting and more than he could have imagined. With his arms full of compact muscles, Jesse pulled Hanzo with him around the couch. Never once able to breakaway long enough to catch his breath. Blindly stepping back until they plummeted to the couch. He had the powerful frame of his archer landing firmly on his lap. The sudden pressure on his groin caused his mind to loose thought. Only the heat of the other man mattered. He reengaged the kiss the moment his mind could refocus. “Tell me if I go too far… or too fast…” he gasped, breaking from Hanzo’s lips to move along his angular jawline. A surprised moan answered his worrying.

Both had chests heaving from the intensity of Jesse’s explorations. His left hand curled into Hanzo’s long black hair still damp from his shower. His right dipped along Hanzo’s abdomen then to his lower back, feeling the twitching muscle with each breath. Kissing down Hanzo’s neck until he reached the beginning of the dragon tattoo Thrilled with the startled groan he pulled from the man above him. 

“You’ll know.” Hanzo gasped. The sensations bombarding the archer started to overcome his thoughts. Jesse just continued and pushed the sleeve from Hanzo’s shoulder. Planting small wet kisses on each individual tattooed scale.

He savored each taste of clean skin. Smooth, taut, faint lavender soap with the barest trace of salt. Everything he could imagine. He could finally share the depth of his desire. The burning in his groin demanded more. Jesse pushed up even as he pulled his archer down. It wasn’t enough, but judging by Hanzo’s dark wide eyes the motion and the reveal was more than sufficient to make his future intentions known. To make up for his impulse, Jesse drew Hanzo in to a lingering kiss. Slow and deep. A far cry from the desperation he started the night with. It was sweet and heated. A gentle tug at the lips, a questioning prob with his tongue. Returning to the easy exploration Hanzo had started in the back of the speedboat.

Jesse tried to slow down. This wasn’t the same as his past flings. One night stands. Brief encounters. None lasting more than a month. This was different. He wanted this to be different. So he tried.

“Hola, chicos!” Where they had missed the door opening while lost in physical sensations, there was no tuning out the chipper call from the hacker.

Jesse groaned in frustration. Looking up he saw the same look of annoyance in Hanzo’s eyes. Both of them rolled their eyes at the interruption. “SOMBRA!” He promised to strangle this woman for her sense of timing.

“What? It’s not like you’re naked or anything.” The hacker was partly hidden by her glowing purple screens. “I discovered something of upmost interest in Talon’s communications. Only problem is, it’s happening in Ilios tomorrow night. So pack up and get moving.”

“What is happening and why must we go?” Hanzo was already in business mode. He was already shrugging back into his yukata. Jesse reluctantly assisted in covering the intricate tattoo, listening to his archer catch his breath and demand answers. He knew they were going. He wondered why Hanzo insisted on pretending otherwise. Sombra was already smirking. She knew the same thing. Now if only he could tell his raging desire to beat a retreat.

The petite young woman already her her spiel ready. Her screens flashed with pertinent visuals to punctuate her points. “The short answer is Volskaya is about to get her hands on some highly advance Omnic tech. And if this is the new hard drive I’ve been hearing about, then it will revolutionize how Omnics interpret the world. Now before you ask, Volskaya has been getting Omnic tech illegally for years and passing it off as her own inventions. And you don’t want this type of advance technology in the hands of Talon.”

“So you’re suggesting we take it off her hands.” Hanzo frowned as his mind pieced together the rest of the scheme. And possible consequences. “Gaining the ire of the most powerful person in Russia in addition to angering Talon, who already have cause to wipe us off the map.”

The hacker shrugged, glancing over her screens with a knowing smile. “Pretty much sums it up. So….”

“And why must we go?” 

Jesse wished he could produce the same pointed stare the yakuza boss in training was capable of. 

“Well, we’ve already got an entire team packed up and ready. Plus we’re half way around the world to start with. And you can’t say it won’t be satisfying to take them down yourself.” Sombra paused. She never was one for backing down. All they could do now was wait for Hanzo’s approval.

Watching the decision making process flicker across Hanzo’s face had to be one of the more entertaining past times in Jesse’s life. With each blink his eyes darted in a new direction. The small bite to his lower lip and slight casting down of his head meant the yakuza boss in training was seriously considering agreeing to Sombra’s wild plan. And then Hanzo was boring holes into Jesse’s eyes. The intense gaze was seeking agreement. It wasn’t something Hanzo did often. Usually when he made a decision Jesse was left out of the loop and expected to follow along. When Hanzo did seek Jesse’s input it was for these oddball missions with practically no plan in place. Which meant Jesse was going to be put on the spot should trouble arise. 

The gunslinger simply cupped his archer’s cheek and brushed a thumb along that high cheekbone. His own indulgent half smile was enough of an agreement. Hanzo didn’t bother looking away as he said, “Tell Zenkichi to prepare the transport. We’ll head out as soon as he has a flight plan.”

“You won’t regret this, Hanzo!” Sombra called, already out the door. Of course she had known the archer would agree. There had been no doubt from the moment she offered a chance to disrupt Talon. The door clanged against the wall, failing to close properly as the hacker vanished into hallway.

Hanzo sighed heavily and leaned back to stare at the ceiling. Jesse wrapped his arms around the archer’s back to steady him. “She’s worse than Genji,” he muttered.

The low rumble rising from the cowboy made Hanzo frown. Jesse broke out in unabashed laughter before leaning back and cradling Hanzo’s head in his hands. “You’re mine tonight,” he said gently. The low private whisper of a man who would promise Hanzo the world. The archer was loathed to accept this loss if his groan of understanding was anything to by. “Can’t wait.” With the hand stroking Hanzo’s cheek, Jesse encouraged his partner to fall forward for a lingering kiss. 

“Oye! Chicos!” Sombra’s piercing voice cut through the moment. “This is time sensitive!” Of course she had poked her head back into the room to ensure the men were following.

Hanzo broke away first. Jesse tried to follow. To extend the kiss indefinitely. He did not want to let this moment go. But he knew the yakuza boss in training would honor his decision. Just as he knew Hanzo would choose to go on the wild goose chase for this Omnic hard drive. The temptation was too great. Just as the loss to Talon would be a considerable blow to their efforts.

Gazing up into the sharp brown eyes, Jesse felt his heart twist. How long would he keep the attention of this man. He couldn’t think of another time when he wished these moments could last forever. All past encounters easily started, easily forgotten. But with Hanzo he never had enough time. And with the ninja easily distracted with business, Jesse knew nothing was guaranteed. For the first time in his life he worried about being the one neglected.

The archer pushed away and straightened his yukata. “You’re going to have to wait until we return to Hanamura. Technically tonight we’re going to be in Greece stealing from Volskaya.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know. Still it’s been awhile.” Jesse raked his hand through his hair as he stood, trailing after his partner. It had been several weeks since they had to settle a bet. Maybe a couple of months since the gunslinger had won. And Jesse knew exactly what he wanted from Hanzo. Making out and the nights of exploration would come. He had another way to spend a night wrapped up in those arms that did not involve sexual awkwardness.

}{{{}}}{

The night was bright and clear. It was a marvel to be able to see stars within the city limits. However the full moon exposed many of the shadowy corners McCree wanted to use. It was a good night for those not used to clandestine activities. A horrible one for career criminals. Soft moonlight against white buildings created a glow in the world. The black attire so favored by the Shimadas was practically useless. Still he hugged the dark alleys, keeping his eyes peeled for movement. His ears open for the unexpected. 

His partners in crime had vanished to the rooftops. They had a bad habit of disappearing. This time though it was an attempt to steal from the Omnics before Talon or Volskaya arrived. Sombra had their itinerary and had pushed Zenkichi to fly them the rest of the way around the world in record time. So not only did he plan to strangle the hacker for interrupting his time with Hanzo, he would destroy her for causing the most harrowing flight known to man. Still because of her insistence they had arrived before the meeting.

They were in a part of town normal people preferred to ignore. The police who wanted to live stayed far away. This was not the place an upstanding corporate official should step foot in. It was a world of discontent. The thread of existence felt far too similar to his home in Deadlock Gorge. Where everyone was ready to stab his neighbor in the back for a small scrap of food or swallow of polluted water. It hadn’t been so bad for him once he rose up the ranks. Received the tattoo. Got his own bike. Became a trusted member of the gang. But early memories didn’t simply disappear. 

Sombra had called this place the slums. Jesse begged to differ. The white walls and lack of homeless on the streets did not lend credence to her words. Or perhaps they knew a more dangerous enemy was out to play. When towns got deserted for the night, someone had warned the witnesses away. The hairs on McCree’s neck stood on end ever since stepping foot in this town. Both Hanzo and Sombra had dismissed his uneasiness. They knew it was dangerous. They were walking into a place that Talon had already scoped out. In Overwatch’s backyard no less. If they weren’t feeling anxious then they were fools.

McCree wondered if they were fools for staying to complete the job. He was keeping their exit clear. Sora and Zenkichi back by the transport to cover their escape. This was supposed to be a quick in and out job.

“I see them,” Sombra’s voice through the communicator broke the silence of the night. She would have found one of the tallest buildings to scope out the targets. “Two Omnics. No sign of Volskaya yet. Hanzo, I’ll take the one with the case.” McCree turned the corner in time to see the arrow pierce through the Omnic’s skull. With the one with the briefcase distracted and horrified, Sombra dropped down beside him and hacked him unconscious. Smooth and quick. Jesse had to admit he was impressed.

But that was when he saw a shadow move. “Sombra! Get out of there!” Be it Talon or locals, they needed to leave. His revolver trained on that shadow and fired. It staggered but did not stop. An arrow from behind brought the man down. McCree caught up with the hacker to cover her retreat. In the process he got a good look at the assailant. And the badge of a skull encircled by red was an image he had learned to avoid. Things had just gotten worse. This time he had no idea where they were hiding. “We got the bad kind of company. Best be gettin’, folks.”

Sombra sprinted on ahead. She had the case and if she could get it to the transport then they might be able to count this as a success. But where there was one soldier, more were lying in wait. Even as he thought this, the second one sighted popped out of a shadow the gunslinger had sworn was empty. McCree caught the man in the leg. That soldier dropped but continued to fire at the hacker. Except for the supersonic echos of gunfire, the assailant did not release a sound. 

Sombra used the moment to duck around the corner. Her machine gun resounded through the alleyways. A second shot took out the soldier in front of him. The mini machine pistol was not the only gunfire interrupting the night. Without a doubt there were still more soldiers. At least Hanzo was on the roofs. Hopefully able to help them.

McCree’s boots pounded the concrete. He needed to reach Sombra. Turning the corner, he confronted three Blackwatch soldiers in a firefight with the hacker. She was pinned down behind a massive planter. The clay chipping from the urn with every bullet strike. “We need some cover down here!” McCree shouted to Hanzo, eyes scanning the skyline for his archer. He couldn’t wait for long. He fired into the grouping. Splitting their attention between the two of them. Problem was the open alley entrance at his back. “Come on, Sombra!” McCree kept up his shots to cover her retreat. The hacker slammed a new magazine into her pistol and sent a spray into the Blackwatch Operatives. Just enough time for Jesse to reload and get her out of the alley.

Behind him a gasp of surprise and pain caught his attention. Softer than the gunfire. Yet his ears were tuned to it. Jesse whipped around. The petite Mexican woman collapsed face first. Small dusty blue dart stuck out from her exposed neck. “Sombra!” One step towards the hacker and McCree met the tall, massive soldier with deep scars across his face and head covered in a knit beanie. A black broad barrel of a shotgun slammed into his face. The strike spun him with enough force to drop him to his knees. 

“You should pay more attention to your surroundings.” The deep familiar and hated voice from so long ago cut through the ringing in his ears. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to clear his head. Desperate to focus. There had to be a way out. He needed to get Sombra away from here. And hoped beyond hope that his archer had considered the situation lost and fled. Jesse needed the help but in a contradiction of desire, he also wanted Hanzo to find safety. Get to Sora and Zenkichi. Limit the casualties.

McCree craned his neck in attempt to take a look the soldier holding him in place. Disgusted with himself and the circumstances, he spat at the man’s boots. The Hellfire shotgun immediately slapped against his ear. Distantly he heard a cry from his archer. “Jesse!” Focusing on that voice pulled him from the blaring noise in his head. The shotgun muzzle pressing into his skull grounded him in reality. Then there was only silence from the rooftops. He bet anything that Hanzo had succumbed to the same type of dart that downed Sombra. It was a better thought than an actual bullet.

He didn’t need to see the scarred broad noise to know he faced the same hard ass from the invasion of Deadlock. The choice of weapons gave it away. “Long time no see, Shotguns.” McCree chuckled darkly, glaring into the pavement. “So they finally let you out of the office.” To be fair, he had been wondering when Blackwatch would bring out the big guns.

“You’ve kept us busy.” The soldier remain nameless to him. Just some overbearing commanding officer with matching shotguns. No normal human being could handle two massive guns. He had had enough trouble with one.

“Someone had to.” Jesse tightened his grip on his revolver. It was the only thing he had left. And he was the only one remaining. There was no one in his sights and no possible way to move fast enough to beat the pointblank range of a shotgun blast to the head. If there had been a way to save his friends, McCree would have found it by now.

“Drop the gun. You know there is no way out for you.”

“Yeah. And I also know you aren’t gonna pull that trigger.”

“You’re half right. I won’t pull this trigger.” The thick muzzle disappeared from the base of his skull. A sharp pinprick dug itself into his neck. Jesse slapped a gloved hand to the spot and found the dart after its drugs were already taking effect. The world started to blur. His muscles weakened and his revolver dropped to the cement with a deafening clatter. Black military boots stepped into his field of vision. Glancing up took so much effort. Still he forced himself to find the scarred and bearded face of the hated man who had brought him down. Twice. “Welcome to Overwatch, kid.”

“Bastard.” Jesse spat as best he could. He knew nothing more as the world went dark.


	17. Overwatch This

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meet Overwatch, learn a few tidbits of history, create new rivalries.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fair warning, this is long.

**Chapter Seventeen: Overwatch This**

Blinding white light flared to life in the formerly black interrogation room. Hanzo squinted at the door he was now able to make out. The three of them had been knocked unconscious, stripped of their weapons and armor then handcuffed to rigid metal chairs. Humiliating did not begin to cover it. To his left McCree glared at the white door before them. The look within those eyes should have melted the steel keeping them in place. On his right Sombra start to groan as she came to. 

_“Ugh… Que paso?”_ Hanzo didn’t need to know Spanish all that well to interpret her groggy question.

“From what I can figure out, we were dosed with enough tranquilizers to take down McCree.” It only made sense for every dart to contain sufficient amount of chemicals to put to sleep the largest target. Judging from Jesse’s lack of drowsiness and Hanzo’s own building headache, the cowboy had to be the measure.

The hacker clearly was not pleased with that answer. “How much do you weigh?” She winced as she tried to adjust in her seat. Her white sugar skull face paint was smudged. A testament to their treatment following capture. They were in their most basic attire so all searches for concealed weapons had not included stripping them. As far as they were aware.

Jesse looked like he might comment but went still as the door to the interrogation room opened. Two massive soldiers entered the room. The first tall, blond with a touch of gray, exhaustion lingering around his eyes. The bright blue and white high collared coat gave him away as the man with authority. Beside him was a darker skinned, bearded and heavily scarred man, brooding in the background. A black hoodie almost hid the cool and disinterested look in his eyes. Hanzo knew these faces. Strike Commander Jack Morrison and his shadow, Commander Gabriel Reyes.

They were facing the leading figures of Overwatch. The heir to the Shimada Clan matched their gazes without flinching. Nothing they could do would make him backdown. Hanzo did spare a moment to glance at his companions. Sombra regarded the entire scene with aloof interest. Without a doubt she would find a way to make this benefit her. Hanzo wondered if she would sell them out with them right next to her. Jesse scowled in fury and disgust. But his ire was only directed to the dark skinned man dressed in black. A history that Hanzo was not privy to.

Morrison took the lead. He dropped thin holographic sheets on the table as he listed them off. “Hanzo Shimada, heir to the Shimada Clan based in Hanamura, Japan. Jesse McCree, sharpshooter of the Deadlock Rebels based outside of Santa Fe, New Mexico, United States. And Sombra, real name unknown, hacker of Los Muertos based in Dorado, Mexico. Three of the most notorious smugglers of weapons and other contraband. Not to mention assassins and thieves. All three organizations managed to shrug off international efforts to disrupt and take down their enterprises. And now we find three important individuals from each of them together. What are the chances of that?” The question was rhetorical and thankfully neither of Hanzo’s companions fell into the trap of answering. The holo-sheets had a careful inventory of each of their histories and abilities. The only thing missing was their involvement in an Alliance. Did Overwatch really not know about that? Somehow Hanzo doubted it.

The Strike Commander continued. “Aside from your blatant criminal records, the three of you are found in Ilios, Greece. That is quite a distance from any of your home bases. So what interests me is why you were there.”

The only response was the disgusted spit from McCree. In two quick strides, Reyes had McCree by the collar and slammed a fist into the gunslinger’s jaw. Stunned silence from all in the room. Even Morrison arched an eyebrow at the sudden escalation. Reyes was impervious to it all, fixing the gunslinger with a glare that warned him against trying anything. Jesse worked his jaw, testing his teeth with his tongue. Hanzo saw the man workup to what would be another, but bloodier, spit to the floor. So did Reyes. “Spit again and you’ll be spitting teeth.” McCree settled for a poisonous glare as he swallowed. Definitely a history there that Jesse had never shared.

“Anyway,” Morrison turned back Hanzo, giving the archer his undivided attention. “With the three of you in Ilios at the same time as Talon attempted to steal an unidentified item from a Volskaya Industry representative, means either you were assisting them or you were anxious about them succeeding.”

“Hmph, please… ” Sombra rolled her eyes. “You’re rather quick to make assumptions. We were stealing it from the Omnics. I’m betting that you don’t even know what the item was and you’re keeping it vague in attempt to appear to be keeping information from us. Such amateurs. You might as well come out and say it, amigo. You need help.”

Hanzo turned to regard their younger companion. She was smarter than anyone else in this room. Himself included. And the evidence was stacking in her favor. The three of them were together in the interrogation room. They were alive and relatively unhurt. McCree was as stubborn as a mule and had bruising forming along his arms and side of his face. If Sombra was correct then the three of them were about to be offered something unprecedented. 

The hacker continued in mock speculation. “I am thinking that you aren’t able to infiltrate Talon. Not like you tried with our organizations. Didn’t turn out the way you expected, did it?” Sombra grinned, keeping eye contact with Morrison. “So the little Sparrow sent your way suggested using actual criminals without any connection to Overwatch and its companion Blackwatch. Though you know…” Sombra steadied her unrelenting gaze on Reyes. “You might want to review your personnel carefully. Probably the only free suggestion I’ll give you, jefe.” She rolled a mountain of sarcasm into the single last word and immediately perked up as she watched Commander Reyes scowl at the implication. 

At the hacker’s mention of a Sparrow, Hanzo immediately thought of his younger brother. He tried to catch her eyes to ask without words if it was true. Had she sent Genji to Overwatch? Lead weights settled in the pit of his gut. He had not expected to encounter his brother again. Even with the promise that he was safe. It was too unlikely a situation. Too dangerous for them both. If the Elders learned of this, then his brother would no longer be safe. How was he supposed to handle this knowledge?

Reyes caught Morrison’s attention and motioned for them to step outside. Hanzo knew they were going to change their strategy. Before they could shut the door a familiar silhouette slipped through. The Strike Commander attempted to pull the spiky green haired young man back. Still hard muscle and a silent gait, the ninja expertly avoided the soldier’s grasp.

 _”Genji…?”_ Hanzo attempted to form a question, but the answers were already staring right at him. Genji had gone to Overwatch. When Sombra had claimed his brother was safe, this was what she meant. And it meant he had been the reason behind all the difficulty regarding Blackwatch’s investigations into the Shimada Clan. It had only been possible to stay ahead because of the unpredictability of the Deadlock Rebels and Los Muertos. McCree and Sombra. An alliance carved out of distrust and hatred against a shared foe had become the single most powerful entity on the Pacific.

 _”Hello, brother,”_ the young man affirmed dully. A brief hushed argument from just beyond the doorframe ended when the door snapped shut. Genji remained in the room. His eyes were only for his brother. There would be no escaping this meeting. He wore a melancholy frown as he studied his older brother. Hanzo tried not to scowl at the situation. But being tied up in front of family was not easy to ignore. _“Hanzo,”_ Genji started again. This time uncertainty filled his voice. He turned his eyes to the corner of the room and closed them as he released a sigh. _“Are you going to tell father about this?”_ he asked finally. He met Hanzo’s eyes resolutely. He spoke in Japanese, indicating his desire to keep the conversation mostly private. Hanzo saw no reason not to continue.

 _“Does he need to know?”_ Hanzo raised an eyebrow curious to his brother’s reaction. Genji shrugged and shuffled uncomfortably. _“He has already mourned your departure. The Clan has disowned you even if he will not. Show your face in our territory and you have sentenced yourself to death. No, I won’t do that to father.”_

 _“Thank you.”_ Genji bowed shallowly. When he looked back up he regarded all three of them. This time he spoke English. Perhaps not realizing the other two had become quite proficient in Japanese in the time they had been apart. “They aren’t certain what to do with you. And I really don’t want to see any of you go to jail. I tried not to tell them anything that would get you in trouble.”

The hacker shrugged carelessly. “Don’t worry about it, Sparrow. I hooked up with these idiots because they could get me places Los Muertos couldn’t. And here I am.” Sombra sounded way to pleased with herself. “And they don’t even know I was the one who dropped you on their doorstep.” She grinned, clearly intending on using that piece of information to her advantage. Hanzo could only sigh and accept the inevitable.

Any further conversation was cut short as the two soldiers filled the room. Both wore identical looks of severity. Neither tried to push Genji out. The archer was not sure if that was to anyone’s benefit. Again it was Morrison who did the talking. “Sounds like you are very invested in understanding how Talon works, Sombra. You clearly want something.”

“Of course I do. They have secrets and I want to know about them.” The petite woman had a presence twice her size as she smiled at the commanders.

“What about Los Muertos?” Reyes asked.

“What about them?” Sombra dismissed the question. “I have more than paid them back for the upgrades. It’s about time for new ones anyway. You get me the latest tech and help with the upgrades and I’ll get you every piece of information you could want.”

“What’s the catch?” Reyes prodded, correctly not trusting the hacker.

“Well clearly that involves not going to prison. And free access to tech.” Hanzo sighed as Sombra set up her terms. He had not expected anything less. The woman had her own agenda from the very beginning. For a while it aligned with theirs. Now she found an alternative route. Any sense of betrayal Hanzo felt was tempered by the fact he knew Sombra would hold no loyalty to Overwatch once she had everything she wanted. It was just a stepping stone in her path. He wondered if Talon would be her next step. “What do you say, friend? All the information you could want on any organization you want to shut down. Tempting, right.” Sombra leaned in, knowing she had them hooked. 

Morrison rubbed his forehead. “They’re criminals.”

“They’re all criminals,” Reyes rolled his eyes. “How many times must I tell you that boy scouts do not win against them. They have already lasted much longer than you ever anticipated by combining their strengths. And the only thing I am certain of right now is that Talon will either absorb them or wipe them out to prevent competition. They got to Gerard. Which means they can eventually reach anyone. You know she has her own agenda. Use it.” Apparently Reyes had no problem putting the facts on the table. It was better that way. So long as everyone’s goal was clearly stated there would be less backstabbing. And they would know where to look.

“I can’t believe we are doing this.” Morrison groused. 

“Better the enemy you know than the enemy you don’t know.” Reyes shrugged, arms wide and almost careless.

“Fine. Within reason we can accommodate.” Morrison relented. “What about the other two?”

“I’d like to speak to my brother,” Genji stepped forward. “Alone if you don’t mind.” Morrison nodded and Reyes moved around to release the archer from the chair. “He won’t need the handcuffs.” Genji said firmly, fixing Hanzo with a searching stare. Reyes waited. Hanzo gave a small curt nod in agreement. The heir to the Shimada Clan was released into the custody of his younger brother. As they walked out of the interrogation room, Hanzo watched a group of three soldiers escort Sombra and Morrison away from the room. That left Jesse and Reyes alone. Genji must have understood Hanzo’s hesitation. _“He won’t do anything.”_

_“How can you be sure? They seem to hate each other.”_

_“They probably do, but Commander Reyes doesn’t act without good reason. And beating up a man they are trying to obtain help from is not a good choice.”_

_“You say that as if this Reyes had not already struck Jesse.”_

Genji cocked his head towards the door. _“I can only make guesses from here. Commander Reyes led the assault on the Deadlock Rebels. He was unsuccessful. This was before Jesse McCree joined us in Hanamura. I am guessing that something happened between the two of them at that time. I’m sure if you ask, Jesse will tell you.”_ They wandered away from the interrogation room, through blank hallways painted in coded colors that Hanzo did not have a reference for. Genji was right. McCree did have a history before their alliance.

Hanzo left that line of conversation alone for now. _“Why are you here?”_ he asked Genji instead.

Silence answered him. Genji scuffed his shoe against the tilted floor and shrugged. _“I went where Sombra directed me. I needed the medical treatment. And I knew I needed help should the Elders send someone after me.”_

_”You could handle any of their assassins easily.”_

_”Perhaps. But those were not the ones I was worried about.”_ Genji turned a corner and led the way to an outside door. They stepped onto an alabaster white balcony overlooking a whole range of snow capped mountains. The chilled air and breathtaking sight halted any further questions. Daylight just barely breeching the jagged teeth.

To refocus, Hanzo watched his brother carefully. There was only one person his brother had never been able to beat. That was Hanzo himself. Had Genji always been this perceptive _”Why have you brought me out here?”_

 _”To talk.”_ Genji stepped up to the gracefully curved concrete railing, gazing out at the mountains. It was then Hanzo noticed that his brother’s right arm was no long flesh. Guilt ripped through his heart at the realization. _“I know you are supposed to take up leadership of the Clan after Father, but I don’t want you to. You aren’t happy now. Why would you be happy then? Just because it is how father raised us, doesn’t mean that is all life has to offer. Do you even know what you want out of life?”_

 _“Genji, talk like this is nonsense. If I leave as you did, the Elders won’t simply ignore me. They will actively hunt me down. I do not want to deal with that sort of life. I can be content leading the Clan.”_ While the statement glossed over the truth, the actions of the family were true.

 _“Really?”_ Genji sounded surprised. _“You hated going to the meetings.”_

Hanzo groaned at the memory. _“They have not gotten any better.”_

_“Then don’t. I know it is not much, but the people here can help. You already know Overwatch wants to dismantle the Clan. So let them. If the Clan does not exist then you do not have to worry about leading them. Besides…. Then you won’t have to worry about when the Elders decide to get rid of Jesse.”_

_“Genji… I’m starting to wonder exactly how often you spied on us,”_ Hanzo could not really get angry at his younger brother. The young man had kept their secret despite pestering them. And now that things had gone much further and that the entire Clan seemed to know, there was no point.

 _“Often enough.”_ Genji chuckled. _“Who wouldn’t want to spy on the American. Don’t worry, no one else got close. I made sure of that.”_

_“So you think I should give up Hanamura and join Overwatch to help them destroy Talon?”_

_“Sounds like a better plan than fighting both Overwatch and Talon for your right to exist.”_

_“And what options are there for Jesse? Deadlock is not going to let him go easily.”_

_“No, they won’t.” Genji pursed his lips in thought. “But they are not international. The Clan and Los Muertos won’t care about a runaway sharpshooter. Deadlock won’t hunt him down. Though like me, if he returns to their territory… he won’t like the results. But I don’t know what he will choose. I can only hope to change your mind. If I can do that… maybe you can change his?”_

Hanzo stood in silence beside his brother. There was sense in what Genji had to say. It was tempting to leave it all behind, but unlike Genji, Hanzo had felt belonging amidst the organization. Hanzo had the respect of the elders and underlings as the future leader of the Clan. The whole organization was his. And walking away from it felt wrong. But then so did leaving his brother in exile. _“And Overwatch is not simply going let me go after this.”_ The elder son of the oyabun sighed, realizing that no matter what he chose he was still stuck here until the United Nations backed law enforcement made up their minds.

_“Unlikely. Though I am sure father will put up quite a complaint once he learns of what happened. Claiming everything from kidnapping to false imprisonment. You know he would get you back legally or illegally.”_

_“True, though he won’t extend that to Jesse.”_ Genji shook his head in agreement. It seemed Hanzo had very limited options. _“So you have given me the choice of abandoning the Clan in favor of assisting Overwatch against Talon. Or escaping Overwatch in favor of leading the Clan. One thing you have not mentioned is assisting Overwatch without being part of it.”_

_“Hanzo… No… They won’t allow it.”_

_“Who said allow? They will simply have to accept it. We are ninjas, Genji. We specialize in covert tactics to accomplish our goals. All the rest are side jobs and distractions. Talon has already approached Father about our elite forces. They were interested. I believe that Talon will destroy us now that we resisted. Perhaps only absorb those who defect. By continuing on as leader of the Clan I will be in a position receive and pass information regarding Talon. We have not been idle since you left. We have learned quite a bit about Talon’s operation and goals. That will be something we continue.”_

_“I can’t believe you. Do you know how dangerous that is? First off Overwatch will not hire a bunch of ninjas.”_ Genji frowned. The younger ninja was not thinking of the broad scope of the possible.

_“They don’t need to hire us. None of us, the Clan, Deadlock or Los Muertos, want Talon to gain more power. They are dangerous. We are only after a profit. Talon… they are after something more… dangerous. No one needs to know that Overwatch is getting information from us. Or do you think they will be capable of deciphering all our codes?”_

_“Sombra can.”_

_“Yes she can. And I suspect she will have an interest in keeping it secret. Perhaps even assisting us in making better ones. Sombra’s goal is to know everything. Talon would keep secrets from her if she joined them. We can get her to understand that.”_

_“Hanzo… why? Why must you do this? Why can’t you just leave?”_

_“Because Genji… They are family. They do not deserve to be destroyed by either Overwatch or Talon. And if I’m not there, then someone else will step forward and it can become an even more dangerous place. I will present this alternative to the Strike Commander. But first I must speak to Jesse. Knowing him he will provoke a fight just because.”_ Hanzo moved away, but Genji pulled on his shirt to delay him. Glancing over he saw that Genji was not looking at him still. His brother’s eyes were on the monumental range of snow capped mountains.

_“What will you do when Deadlock tells him to kill you?”_

That was a thought Hanzo had stopped seriously considering. He knew Jesse McCree now. He didn’t need to ask the gunslinger what they would do. But it was still a concern. Hopkins would not care about any private relationship. _“We haven’t decided. But if I’m anywhere but the middle of Deadlock Gorge then I think we can survive.”_

 _“Then I will pray for you, brother.”_ Genji pushed away from the railing and led the way back to the interrogation room.

Inside Hanzo saw that Jesse had not moved, still scowling at Commander Reyes. The Blackwatch Commander had taken one of the chairs and was lounging in it with his arms crossed. His eyes left McCree for less than a second to see who had entered the room. The man seemed unaffected by the animosity radiating from the gunslinger.

Hanzo drew himself up to his full height. It was nothing compared to the soldier relaxing in the chair, but Hanzo wore authority like a second skin. “May I speak to Jesse McCree alone for a few minutes?” He asked politely as if he had every right in the world to be granted the request. Demanding things now would only make it more difficult to demand things later. Reyes shifted his eyes from Hanzo to Genji then back to McCree, critically analyzing the possibilities. Hanzo’s face quirked into a scowl at waiting. “I assure you that your current monitoring of the room and guarding of the door will grant you plenty of security and information. I wish to discuss the current options without an audience.”

“Really?” Reyes arched an eyebrow skeptically. “You don’t know what his options are.”

“Currently jail or working for you seem to be on the table. Anything else can be negotiated.” Hanzo did not back down even as the soldier stood and stepped uncomfortably close. It was an intimidation tactic that Hanzo refused to allow to work. Even as he was forced to look up at the taller, older man.

“You’re quite sure of yourself. And we haven’t even agreed to anything yet. Come on, Genji. I can’t wait to hear what these two come up with.” Reyes smirked as he glanced back at the handcuffed sharpshooter. “Free him and all bets are off.”

Hanzo nodded and waited for the commander to leave the room. Then he could sigh in momentary relief. 

“Well look at you,” McCree broke the silence first with his usual cheerfulness. “Already taking charge and still a prisoner.” Hanzo cast an annoyed side-glance towards the man. The archer pulled the chair Reyes had used closer to the table. He sat, hands clasped on the table and eyes boring furious holes into his partner. “What did I do?” McCree started to try and look everywhere else other than Hanzo.

None of this was his fault. Hanzo would not blame him. But Jesse had not disclosed his full history with Overwatch. “You could start by telling me why this Commander Reyes despises you.”

“The feelings mutual,” Jesse muttered. He looked like was about to spit, scowled and changed his mind. “He was the one that led the raid on Deadlock. He almost succeeded too. Killed a bunch of guys. Got several bosses jailed. Almost had me. I’ve always had good aim. I got a couple rounds of particularly good shots. Wiped out about twelve of his soldiers. Headshots, that’s how I knew it was me. I got away because he didn’t want to kill me. Shot him in the back too. Don’t think he was too happy about that.”

“Why didn’t you kill him?”

McCree shrugged as best as the handcuffs would allow. “He didn’t kill me. Fair’s fair. It’s how I got shotgun pellets in my left arm though.” 

Hanzo frowned. He felt like there was more to the story but this sufficed for now. “You understand what they want?”

McCree shrugged again. It seemed as if the cowboy could care less. He had a very poor opinion of his own life, even if his survival instincts were decent. “Talon is causing them trouble and they can’t get in to figure out how to stop them. Not surprising. Blackwatch has been trying to infiltrate all our organizations for years now. With varying levels of success. But I guess Talon is a brick wall for them.”

“And what are your thoughts?”

“About helping them to get out of this mess?” Hanzo nodded and McCree’s lips thinned and he chewed on his the inside of his cheek. “Dangerous.” That one word was an understatement.

“There aren’t very many options out there. But Talon is a danger to us all. If we let it continue to build in strength it will either lead the world back into the devastation of the Omnic Crisis or become the only criminal organization of note in the world, thus either having us work for them or be destroyed. I’m not fond of either option.”

“What’s _opcion tres?_ ”

“Taking command of the Clan and feeding information back to Overwatch to give them a leg up on dismantling Talon. Sombra will be able to do a lot, but you and I both know that hacking into computers can only accomplish so much. Sometimes you need to be in the thick of things.”

McCree frowned. “You do realize what you are saying.” Hanzo nodded. “No more gallivanting around the world if you do this. You’ll be stuck behind the stonewalls of Hanamura and any trip you want to make will be surrounded by those tight-assed bodyguards.” Hanzo scowled at the thought, but McCree continued. “You are a man of action. You like being out here in the field. You always complained about how dull it was ordering people into places you wanted to go.”

“It is also my duty to the family. If I don’t do this then think about who will take my place? My cousins? They are currently ill fit to lead. They would send the Clan into ruin. None of them care for the foot soldiers. As oyabun I’m supposed to take care of them.”

“Hanzo…” McCree interrupted a bit harsher than he intended because he immediately dropped his voice to the low whisper typically used when they were alone. Jesse never ceased to amaze him. Even in this situation he was willing to display his truest self for Hanzo. “I get it. I really do, Hanzo. Whatever you decide I will be with you. Whether it is watching your back when you take on the mantle of oyabun or running by your side as you see the world. Being with you is worth it.”

Hanzo wished he could grip Jesse’s hands right then. The depth of their unspoken bond seemed better shared through that gesture. “Very well then. Now where are the cameras to let them know we are finished?”

“I’ve been glaring at the one above the doorframe.” McCree jerked his chin behind Hanzo. The archer twisted and studied the area intently.

“You’re sure there is one up there?”

“Yup. The small ledge above the trim is false. It’s got a screen of some sort to hide the camera.”

“How can you tell?”

“Seen it before and I’ve got amazing eyesight,” McCree grinned. Never shy to brag about his abilities. “Hey Shotguns!” McCree called towards the camera. “Get your lead laden ass in here.” Hanzo gave his partner a questioning look. “Yeah… remember when I said I shot him in the back…. It was more like in the butt. Two shots to the ass. It was a terrible gun. I was trying to aim for his legs.” Hanzo chuckled. Only McCree would complain after successfully landing incapacitating shots. After a couple of moments Commander Reyes finally entered and took up residence against the wall. “There he is, Shotguns himself.” Hanzo wasn’t sure if the reference to the commander’s weapon was supposed to be insulting or not. From his understanding of McCree, Hanzo was willing to bet that the name was meant as grudging respect while at the same time served to annoy the man in question. “Where’s Goldilocks?” Jesse asked when no one else joined the commander.

Only a slight widening of the eyes and quirk of the mouth betrayed the Blackwatch Commander’s amusement at the Strike Commander’s new nickname. “Commander Morrison is getting your friend Sombra set up with some of our scientists. And finding someone who can keep an eye on her in the meantime. He’ll be down shortly.” They waited. Reyes leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. Jesse, in a much better mood, smirking as if he owned the room. Hanzo sitting next to him just wishing the whole thing would end.

When the Strike Commander finally entered the room, Hanzo stood to greet him. It paid to be respectful. Morrison eyed him skeptically then nodded in greeting. “Well, Mr. Shimada, it seems you have an interesting proposition for us.” Morrison motioned to the chairs. Hanzo slid his around to sit next to Jesse and Morrison took the remaining chair to sit across from both of them. Reyes never moved from his position on the wall.

“Genji told you,” Hanzo stated, merely seeking affirmation. 

“He did. He also said it could work.”

“Did he? That was not the impression I had when we parted ways.” 

“Only because I do not think this was the outcome he had hoped for. As I understand it, Genji would prefer that you denounce the criminal existence entirely. Your plan however has merit. Though what will you do when Talon is destroyed?”

“Continue the family business.”

“You know we will not allow that.”

“Yes, but you will have nothing to take us down with. Genji has not been with us for many years and by the time you take out Talon, we will have changed from what he knew. You don’t really expect me to betray my family that easily?”

“You have plenty of legitimate business ventures, why continue with the criminal ones?”

“My family comes from a long line of ninjas. Those skills are usually sold to the highest bidder. That is not a tradition I am willing to abandon. Besides, it will likely be years before Talon is finished. Wouldn’t it be better to renegotiate at that time?” Hanzo eyed the Strike Commander expectantly.

“And you expect us to let you walk out of here with nothing holding you to your word?” Morrison finally continued the conversation.

“Considering what you want, it is the only option you have. You know very well that should I be detained here, my father will go through every means necessary to put your organization into question. The media is not kind when those types of questions start to arise.”

“You do not have to threaten us. It has barely been six hours since your capture.” Morrison sighed wearily. 

“It was not a threat. Simply a statement of fact.”

Morrison nodded. “Genji said as much as well. And that your word would keep you honest. Your plan does have merit, but it also does not allow us to give you any sort of protection should your dealings with Talon sour.”

“As I understand it, that was your intention all along. Isn’t that right, Commander Reyes?” Hanzo turned his piercing gaze to the Blackwatch Commander. 

Reyes shrugged, keeping his arms crossed. “Should the Shimada Clan go down, not a big loss.” Hanzo could feel the tension in Jesse from those words. The cowboy did not act but he knew McCree’s face had returned to a full scowl.

“Not to you, perhaps.” Hanzo said lightly, trying to ease the tension. “But it would leave a large power vacuum for Talon or some other violent extremist to slither in. You might not be able to provide much in the way of protection, but it is to your benefit that we do not fail.”

The Strike Commander resumed the conversation, shutting out anything Reyes wanted to add. “Agreed. The only thing we might be able to offer is information.”

“By way of Sombra.” Hanzo interrupted and watched in satisfaction as Morrison nodded.

“Depending on the strength of your friendship, she might send it to you unasked.”

“I think we can deal with that easily.” Hanzo nodded. This negotiation was turning out easier than he had expected. They must want Talon destroyed beyond Hanzo’s original understanding.

“Guess that leaves you, McCree,” Reyes pushed himself off the wall with a half grin of anticipation forming. One Hanzo did not like.

“I suppose I had not been clear on this issue,” Hanzo interrupted, pleased by the sharp glance the Blackwatch Commander sent his way. Hanzo however kept his eyes on the Strike Commander. “Jesse McCree will be joining me when I walk out those doors.”

Jack Morrison met Hanzo’s gaze stone faced and calculating. Gabriel Reyes however was trying to contain his fury. “Jack, you can’t be seriously considering this.”

“You said it yourself, Gabe, there aren’t many options out there. And if your plan fails that puts another highly skilled individual within Talon’s ranks.” Morrison did not look away from Hanzo as he said this, clearly torn by the decision.

McCree started laughing. “Oh, that’s rich. Seriously, Shotguns? You wanted me to infiltrate Talon’s soldiers and send back everything I can find? That’s hilarious!” The room turned to watch his partner laugh uproariously. It was unabashed humor in the situation, tinged with a darkness of disbelief. “I can’t take you seriously right now.” The chuckles died down and a dangerous gleam entered the cowboy’s eyes. One Hanzo only saw in the middle of a firefight. “You don’t even know why you keep loosing your soldiers to Talon. Let me tell you a story. I think you’ll appreciate it.

“Once there was this woman. A civilian woman. Close to an important man. You know how men are… they don’t think about how valuable a woman is. Until they go missing. Talon needed this man out of the way. They tried many things. And was always faced with failure. See, they didn’t even understand the importance of this woman at first. They kidnapped her with the intention of using her as bait. Well, someone inside Talon decided that there was an opportunity here. Why simply use her as bait? They started playing with her mind.” McCree grinned darkly as recognition starting to form on the Overwatch Commanders’ faces. “Ever hear of a sniper that could move so fast that it felt like more than one person? Someone that could get into places that no human should? Well this woman defied all expectations. She slipped back into the arms of her man. Then disappeared into the night leaving his corpse behind. Talon had made the perfect weapon. They continue to make more.”

Morrison turned to share a troubled glance with Reyes. “You don’t think… Amelie?” the Strike Commander frowned.

“It does explain a few things.” Reyes scowled. “How do you know this?” The Blackwatch Commander pinned McCree with a deadly stare.

McCree shrugged and grinned self-assuredly. “Foot soldiers talk. Bits and pieces. Different places. Not all of them are brainwashed drones. Some of them are simply evil, cruel individuals. They like cheap beer and expensive whiskey. More of a bourbon guy myself. Tequila for some variety.” Reyes’s scowl deepened and he turned to leave the room. Presumably to share this new information with others. “Hey, Hanzo… you know how I said it was a terrible gun? It was actually one of his shotguns,” Jesse’s grin spread to fill his face as the door slammed shut.

Morrison was left alone with the two criminals. He studied the two young men with a growing frown. “You’re planning on walking out of here with him in tow? Have free reign and we’re just supposed to accept your word that you’ll obtain information on Talon and work towards their defeat?”

“In simple summation, yes. Though I suppose you want some sort of collateral that we’ll make good on our promises. I’d say Sombra, but you know full well she has her own agenda.”

“That is why McCree is staying here. For a short period of time.”

“Excuse me?” Jesse gaped from his chair.

The Strike Commander continued to speak to Hanzo as if Jesse had not said a word. “It is obvious that he is familiar with Talon to a level we aren’t. He stays. Answers the questions we have. You are free to go and set up your empire. We’ll release him when we are satisfied.” Morrison stated flatly.

“I’m still here, ya know!”

“What guarantee do I have that you will release him at all?” Hanzo probed. 

“So our word is not good enough?”

“I have no reason to trust your word as an organization. Seeing as how you are actively trying to dismantle mine.”

Morrison frowned in thought. The door opening interrupted anything he might have said. “Meet the kid I told you about. The pain in my ass has become a Shimada lapdog.” Reyes’s voice announced his arrival. When the door opened fully, he stood next to a lady in the blue Overwatch uniform with long greying hair. “He’s got aim to rival yours.” Hanzo was impressed that the Blackwatch Commander was not above using puns at his own expense.

“I ain’t no lapdog!” McCree protested, struggling against the handcuffs. His metal chair rocked dangerously close to tipping over and ruining the man’s bravado. 

Hanzo sighed. “He’s more of a rattlesnake that won’t go away.” A very true statement. No one in the Shimada Clan knew when Deadlock would set this sharpshooter on them and Hanzo never knew when McCree’s big mouth would get him in trouble.

Hanzo finally placed a name to the woman standing in front of them, eyeing McCree appraisingly. Captain Ana Amari, second in command. He almost smirked at the fact that their interrogation had been conducted by the three most important figures in Overwatch. But then they likely wanted this interrogation to remain secret. 

“You said this crass, unkempt boy could rival me in a shooting competition? Honestly, Gabriel, there would be no competition. He knows nothing.” Amari dismissed the cowboy with professional distain.

“I ain’t a boy.” McCree scowled at the insults. “I could surprise you. I bet I’d beat you head to head.”

“Hmph,” Amari was not having it. Hanzo could see trouble staring them dead in the eye.

“I win, we walk out of here no further questions asked,” McCree offered, a gleam of excitement in his eyes. He had not had a true competition in quite some time. Probably the only reason Hanzo was not complaining about the stupidity of it all.

“I’m not much of a betting woman myself…” Amari started, “But if I win, you stay and answer our questions and I’ll let you go the day you beat me.”

Hanzo groaned. McCree lit up like it was Christmas morning. “Deal.” Did the idiot not understand that he had just bound himself to this law enforcement agency? Probably not. He was blinded by the opportunity to prove himself the better shot. And Reyes had the smug expression of a man who had won. Morrison was failing to keep an amused smile off his face. Hanzo closed his eyes and counted. He would not get angry. This team had played their parts well. They had practically gotten everything they wanted. Hanzo would not need to trust anyone’s word because McCree would uphold any bet he made. He just hoped that Amari would as well. The day McCree beat her in competition would be an interesting day indeed.

“Well, now that that is out of the way,” Morrison stood and eyed Hanzo expectantly. “Perhaps you would like to see a bit more of the base. Get cleaned up, and watch their competition?” He acted as if the son of a yakuza was now their honored guest. Reyes was already unlocking McCree from the chair, but the gunslinger’s hands remained chained together.

Jesse pointedly jerked his wrists towards the key. “The cuffs?”

“Stay on.” Reyes roughly shoved McCree’s shoulder towards the door. “I don’t trust you.” Hanzo could only sigh as he watched the treatment. It wasn’t exactly violent and McCree was not cooperating.

“Lead the way,” Hanzo motioned to Morrison, indicating that he would follow. Once outside the interrogation room, Hanzo was flanked by both Amari and Morrison. They walked together, following the protests of the gunslinger and the gruff orders from the commander. “You’re not really going to leave them alone together, are you?” Hanzo wasn’t sure who he was more worried about.

Amari chuckled lightly. “You’d better believe it. We still haven’t let Gabriel live that one down.”

“It’s nice to have something embarrassing when he decides to bring up the statue.” Morrison grinned. “Don’t worry, Mr. Shimada. Gabe won’t harm him beyond a couple of bruises. Despite the outcome, he really was impressed with McCree’s abilities back in Deadlock. It will be interesting to see how he has improved over the years.”

“I should have known there was more to that encounter than he was telling me.” Hanzo groused. He had no idea these old soldiers had a wicked sense of humor. If they all survived this encounter it would make for interesting story.

The Strike Commander chuckled softly.“Not too much more. Blackwatch went in to break up the Deadlock Rebels. He got a majority of them. But as expected with large organizations there was someone who could pull them back together and a few who could work from prison. McCree was a surprise. From what we could find out about him afterwards was that he was a seventeen year old kid wanted for more murders than seemed reasonable. Then Gabe told us about McCree’s aim. Seven soldiers down before Gabe cut him off and unconscious. I still don’t know the full details of what was said in the impromptu interrogation room, but needless to say, McCree slipped the handcuffs and made it out. Four more went down before McCree escaped, taking Gabe’s dignity with him. He’s been wanting to get his hands on that kid ever since. Seems like the Shimadas got to him first.”

It was Hanzo’s turn to shrug and sigh. “In a weird twisting sort of way.”

Ana provided the rest. “Given the unusual alliance between Shimada, Deadlock and Los Muertos, I suspect you’re constantly wondering when his gun is going to point at you.” She was perceptive and confirmed what Hanzo had suspected about their knowledge of the Pacific alliance. He simply nodded. There was much more to it, but that was a satisfactory explanation.

Their stroll through the halls of Overwatch’s Headquarters revealed it to be a massive installation. Hanzo suspected that he would be lost in this facility for many days should he be stuck here. The plan was to be back in Hanamura by nightfall. Six hours was a long absence. He would need to call his father to ensure that no retribution took place. The Strike Commander gave a decent tour of the grounds. Everything public knowledge. The Captain followed with her eagle eye stare. Nothing would get past her.

McCree and the Blackwatch Commander took the lead. Jesse followed sullenly, but at least he was not antagonizing the Commander. The two stopped at an unmarked door, waiting for the three of them to catch up. At first Hanzo was puzzled. As soon as Morrison opened the door, all answers became clear.

“-would cost a fortune!” The deepest bass voice Hanzo had ever heard growled in frustration.

“That’s just the beginning.” Sombra. He recognized that self assured voice anywhere. Having listened to it often enough. The hacker would get what she asked for. “Your equipment is fantastic, but technology is ever changing. It really isn’t so much in the long run. And trust me, Winston, you’ll thank me later when your experiments run smoother.”

The Strike Commander heaved a massive breath for patience and glared at Reyes for the briefest moment. Hanzo could only chuckle. “You have a piranha and a rattlesnake under your roof now. I suggest you treat them as such.” He commented dryly. Morrison only straightened without comment and entered the room.

Amari did cast a calculated glance in the archer’s direction. “Are your companions aware of these descriptions?” 

Hanzo did not bother to look over his shoulder at his gunslinger. McCree was already chuckling under his breath. “Without a doubt. I wonder if they try go beyond the nomenclature. Sombra will consume every piece of technology and information she can get her hands on. I suggest you provide her with plenty of interesting and time consuming research tasks. And be prepared for ill timed interruptions. Jesse is a veritable zoo of emotions. He’ll speak his mind, so try not to get offended. Otherwise give him access to a target range and there won’t be much else you need to worry about.”

“I suppose a dragon would know how to handle dangerous people.” The Captain conceded. 

That moment they were joined by Sombra, Morrison and Genji. The last surprised Hanzo. He had not realized his little brother would continued to be involved in their stay. The hacker grinned enthusiastically. “Hanzo! You wouldn’t believe the tech they got! It rivals yours. After I got a hold of it. And guess what, they got Sparrow to watch over me! Can you believe it!” Hanzo had a breath waiting to speak, only to be interrupted before a word could emerge. “Ha! Look at you, Jesse! Still handcuffed and everything! Man, they really don’t like you.” What did it matter that the top brass of Overwatch were standing right next to them.

McCree shrugged, an amused half grin sneaking its way under his beard. Sombra’s excitement was infectious. “What can I say? They do have legitimate cause.”

Morrison halted their conversation by speaking directly to Reyes. “Get them to the medical bay, checked out and healed up if needed. Ana and I will wait at the practice range.” Four more soldiers, this time wearing the Blackwatch insignia flanked the group. Interesting. There would be no getting away with anything when watched by fellow criminals who knew most of the same tricks. Reyes was a smart man.

Hanzo walked in silence beside his brother, ignoring Sombra who needled Jesse about the continued use of handcuffs. At this point the ninja was certain it was nothing more than a power play. McCree would not try anything now that he made a bet. It only served as an obvious reminder that technically they were still prisoners. They wouldn’t maintain the image of imprisoning the eldest son of Japan’s most influential businessman. And they needed Sombra’s help too much to humiliate her. So Jesse was the stand in.

Within the hospital setting, the first thing Hanzo noticed was that three beds had a change of clothing. Black sweats. But something different and clean. How considerate of them. The medical staff were occupied with various computers but four broke away. The nurses ushered the three of them to the beds and started their scans. Professional. Strike Commander Morrison seemed to understand the world and the dangers of injuring political prisoners. 

The slender blonde woman in the white lab coat stopped to talk to Reyes. Hanzo kept his ears trained on that conversation. “So these are the combatants Jack warned were coming. Just judging by sight alone… you could have eased up a bit.”

“Just make sure nothing is broken, Dr. Ziegler.” Reyes sounded annoyed. There was nothing he could do when combatants actually fought back.

“These are my friends and my brother, Angela.” Genji spoke next. “They might not look like it, but they are good people.” The vote of confidence rang hollow in Hanzo’s soul. How could he be a good person after everything he had done.

The exam was brief. Only Jesse required any aid to heal the bruising. Hanzo stood next to his brother while they waited for the other two to change. He studied the green haired ninja and saw that his eyes were almost fixated on the young doctor. So he tried to make conversation. _”I take it the doctor is a good friend of yours as well.”_

 _”What? Eh… yeah… I suppose. She was the one to help me after.”_ Genji raised his mechanical right arm. _”You know… And she’s nice.”_

 _”I don’t see why you can’t be friends then.”_ Hanzo smirked at the blush rising in his brother’s cheeks. If he didn’t think about the past, perhaps he could restart lines of communication with his brother. Just to annoy him with this new crush. He had missed Genji. Then the other two joined them. Sombra had cleaned off her face paint. Her hair combed to the side, still showing off her cybernetics. Somehow Jesse had convinced his handlers and Reyes that he did not need the handcuffs. He scowled at the two soldiers flanking him, but cooperated. He would probably have chaperones for sometime to come. No matter how cocky the American was, he did not know Amari’s reputation.

But it would be a good show.

“Alright, playtime’s over.” Reyes called them to order. The Commander pinned McCree with a fearsome glare. “Step out of line and those cuffs will stay on.” Jesse rolled his eyes. Hanzo couldn’t wait to hear how Jesse’s stay in Overwatch turned out. At this rate, the ninjas would have to come in and steal him away.

Even with the guards, the walk to the practice range was amicable. Jesse caught up with Genji. Joking about living in a military compound. Asking after any recreations. Specifically challenging him to a game of darts. For those two it seemed as if time had not separated them. Hanzo tried to ignore the sense of longing welling up within him. His time with his brother had passed. He had broken anything they could have had. Rebuilding would take time. If it ever happened.

Arriving at the range was a relief. Hanzo noticed the table with Jesse’s revolver, holster and cases of bullets. The gunslinger was ecstatic. Beside it stood Captain Amari with a sniper rifle cradled in her arms. Odd choice for a competition. Comparing a revolver to a rifle was just as outrageous as comparing it to a bow. Yet here they were.

“Shall we begin?” Amari motioned to the table. Jesse approached with a grin.

Just like the first time Hanzo watched McCree in an exhibition, the gunslinger’s confidence soared the moment he held the revolver in his hand. The world disappeared for Jesse. Only the man and the weapon existed. It was an old reliable friend. One seldom out of reach and mourned every moment it was locked away. Hanzo wondered if his cowboy knew how distant he became from reality during these moments. It was inspiring. The archer could almost see the thoughts of welcome and apology cross the neatly trimmed bearded face. Without the broad brimmed hat, Jesse’s deep set eyes were visible and crinkled in affection.

McCree came back to the moment with a blink, as if remembering how strange a setting they were in. He stepped back from the table and motioned to the Captain to proceed. “Ladies first.” A tilt of a non existent hat and half bow followed.

The sniper chuckled. The stoic face morphing into surprised amusement. Perhaps a hint of appreciation. A soldier of her caliber must not receive much chivalrous behavior. “They failed to mention that you were a charmer. Thank you for the offer, but as this is home field advantage for myself… Take a few practice rounds. Get comfortable with the surroundings. Don’t want to hear you making excuses.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it. You’re gonna wish you hadn’t by the end of this.” Cocky. Overconfident. This was the gunslinger Hanzo had come to know. Not backing down from a challenge. Refusing to accept defeat. 

The son of the yakuza took a moment to study the audience. Amari was near impossible to read. As the opponent she appeared pleasant and easygoing, but Hanzo knew her reputation. Perhaps the deadliest sniper currently living. And just like Jesse that amused smile could disappear in an instant. The Strike Commander and Blackwatch Commander stood off to the side, nearly in the shadow of the stairwell. They were whispering with concern lingering on Morrison’s frown. The leader of Overwatch was most likely annoyed with leaving the fate of his prisoners in the hands of a bet. No matter the skill involved, it was folly to allow such an important decision to hinge on a game.

The remaining soldiers were blank faced statues. Perhaps mild interest in the activities, but mostly fixated gazes should McCree turn the gun on their commanders. Jesse shouldn’t be that idiotic. There was no other weapon for Hanzo or Sombra to grab easily. And an entire base of soldiers to wade through into terrain none of them were prepared for. McCree would not take that option. Yet that was what the soldiers seem to expect.

Hanzo joined his brother and the hacker off to the side where they could watch the targets and Jesse’s face. It was a traditional layout for a range. A straight alley though the targets at the end were mobile thanks to robotic assistance. The sound of gunshots rattled the walls until an energy barrier surrounded the range dampened the vibrations escaping. As a warm up, this was nothing. McCree seemed more interested in the sound echoing through the building rather than making every bullseye. Genji took the moment to tell Sombra about the first exhibition shootout they watched McCree display his near perfect aim. Hanzo kept his eyes for his gunslinger.

Several rounds later the biker from Deadlock finally seemed comfortable in the new setting. He was starting to show off. Occasionally spinning his gun. Purposefully making trick shots out of the targets. Amari noticed. She stepped up to the table, requesting more ammunition with a wave of her hand. “Now that you’re ready, we can begin. We’ll make this simple for efficiency. As many shots as you can pull off in five minutes. Only bullseyes count. Athena will be keeping score. The targets are automated with random movements. Agreeable?”

“Sounds good to me. Sure you aren’t gonna take me up on the offer to go first?” Either because the Captain was a lady or the one who accepted the bet, McCree had come to like her.

“And let you show off on my home turf? You made the bet, you’re first. Five minutes, McCree.” Ana Amari stepped back behind the barrier so Jesse could begin. The mild manner A.I. announced the countdown. 

Methodically McCree went through the targets. Nothing Hanzo hadn’t seen in the Hanamura shooting range. Each shot hit the center of the target. As he became accustomed to the pace of the moving targets, his speed increased. As always watching McCree determined to preform well was fascinating. The gleam in those amber eyes never wavered. A slight upturn in his cheeks after a particularly good round. Narrowing of the deep set eyes when accepting a poor shot. The gunslinger was steadfast in his gaze.

“Round complete.” Athena announced, startling those enthralled with the match. Dutifully Jesse emptied the remaining bullets and spent shells onto the table. He kept the revolver in hand. Hanzo found that detail amusing if spiteful. “The results for Jesse McCree are one hundred and seventy three bullseyes.”

Captain Amari walked up to the table. She was shorter than the gunslinger by at least a head, but with her immaculate blue uniform her presence dwarfed McCree in his stripped down sweats. “Respectable. But without training. Let me show you how it’s down.” Amari readied her rifle with her own brand of confidence born of experience. And a bionic eye. Hanzo wondered how his gunslinger would respond to that detail. Clearly Jesse knew nothing of it when he issued the challenge.

McCree stepped back. His eyes glued to the targets. The man would count the shots. Hanzo focused on the woman. The easygoing demeanor vanished. Her gaze the same steely eyed look seen in all sharpshooters. It would be close. Unlike Jesse, Amari’s eyes did not betray good rounds versus poor. Stone faced and determined. Each shot appeared to hit the center of the bullseye. It was probably a good thing Hanzo had not wagered anything important on this. 

Off to the side, the two Commanders had stopped their argument. Reyes looked pleased. It had probably been his idea to bring this down to a shootout. Morrison simply looked impressed. No matter how often they watched this sniper, there was always room to admire exceptional marksmanship. Even McCree’s confidence faded into admiration as he came to realize how outclassed he was.

The impartial A.I. called the five minutes with the same polite indifference as before. “The results for Captain Ana Amari are one hundred and eighty-nine bullseyes.” 

The sniper shouldered her rifle with a gently smug grin. “Simply put, you’re sloppy with the reloads. You take too much time to identify your targets. Even with the mechanical delay of your revolver, we will be able to make improvements in both respects. You will meet me here at seven in the morning on Tuesdays and Fridays.”

Jesse paused not fully comprehending her words. The offer to teach was a surprise. Not even Hanzo had expected that. “Wait… that wasn’t part of the deal.” The gunslinger would not turn down the offer to learn but he did not like the early mornings. Even if he usually was awake by that time each morning to smoke. The biggest concern was if they were changing the terms now, what other changes would they make in the future.

“I won. New deal. Though if you do not want to improve, then I just won’t extend the opportunity.” Amari walked away. The war within McCree spectacularly displayed on his face. Soldiers were already clearing the table and the floor of the spent shells. Hanzo could see why Overwatch would even offer the chance to train under the highly skilled sniper. They wanted Jesse McCree on their side. Had wanted him from a very young age if the archer understood the piecemeal history correctly. Now that the gunslinger was under their roof, they would do whatever was necessary to keep him. Despite the circumstances. And Hanzo would do the same. The Shimada Clan greatly benefited from having McCree with them. 

“Fine. You got yourself a deal.” The appeal outweighed the possible limitations. It was also probably the only time Jesse would be allowed to handle his revolver while prisoner on this base. Jesse would be stuck here until Amari cleared him to leave. Whatever schedule the woman had in store would not be pleasant for the gunslinger. Amari’s curt nod was the only acceptance Jesse’s words received. It seemed settled.

Sombra and Genji rushed the cowboy. Teasing him for the loss. Praising him for the skill he showed. Jesse laughed it off though constantly directed side glances to the exit where Amari disappeared. A sixteen shot deficit was not a runaway victory for the sniper. It was definitely a gap the gunslinger could close with practice. It made Hanzo wonder how he would match up against a legend. It also made him wonder how much she was holding back.

As he strode to join the small group, his pace matched that of Gabriel Reyes. The Blackwatch Commander had the handcuffs in his left hand and reached out with his right. “Alright, McCree. The fun and games are done. Turn in your revolver.”

For a moment Jesse appeared as if he would refuse. The steel in his eyes at the thought of handing over such a valuable piece of his existence was the same Hanzo witnessed each time the Shimada Clan enforced their code of conduct. With a sneer the cowboy spun the handle of the revolver towards Reyes. “Alright, I get it. No gun, no spitting. Can we at least agree on no handcuffs and giving me back my hat!” It would have been petulant if McCree’s eyes did not blaze with indignation.

Reyes paused. The handcuffs loose in his hand. It only took a measured glance between the wild gunslinger and four Blackwatch soldiers hovering just beyond the scene. Finally the enhanced soldier nodded. “I reserve the right to change my mind.” The cuffs were placed on the table.

Jesse snorted. “Empty threat.” The challenge should have been avoided, but Jesse was not taking to his new bondage any easier than the first days within Hanamura.

Faster than Hanzo thought possible, Reyes had Jesse’s arms behind his back and cuffed with those very same handcuffs. The revolver left on the table. The cowboy had no time to react. Even Genji stood off to the side dumbfounded. Jesse struggled, tried to free wrists to no avail. The pieces of metal were sturdy. And the Commander had Jesse’s upper right arm in a bruising vice grip. The gunslinger was not going anywhere and he had done it to himself.

One of the Blackwatch Agents produced the black Stetson. Reyes jammed it on McCree’s head saying, “Your hat.” Jesse screwed up his mouth as if ready to spit in the Commander’s face. After a glare of warning, Jesse backed down. Reyes shoved the gunslinger towards Hanzo and his friends without another word. The Blackwatch Commander took the revolver and stalked towards the far wall where another group of soldiers guarded an armory. It was only then that Hanzo realized that the Strike Commander was no longer present. He must have followed the Captain out and moved on to another piece of business.

Hanzo pursed his lips as he studied the ornery cowboy. “Explain the no spitting rule.”

Jesse sighed, resignation filling his expressive face. Still the man would never say no when it came to telling a story. “When I escaped from him the first time around, I spit lighter fluid in his face and tried to ignite it.”

“Was that before or after you shot him?” 

“Before. How else do you think I got his shotgun?” The man sounded way to pleased of himself for being cuffed and under guard.

Sombra interjected herself between them. In her need to know, she pushed Hanzo to the side to take up the full attention of the cowboy. “Hold on. You spat lighter fluid at him and shot him? And you never told us! I’m disappointed in you, Jesse.” Her bright pink nail jabbed into McCree’s chest.

“It never came up!” He defended.

The hacker was relentless. “After all our drunken conversations! It never once occurred to you to share this little tidbit!”

“To be fair,” Jesse rolled his eyes, “we were more interested in making fun of the two groups of goons sharing the same bars.”

Sombra chuckled. “I’ll give you that. But I expect to know the full story by dinner.”

Reyes stepped up beside Hanzo. His boots surprisingly silent. “Blackwatch Agents and Talon Operatives shared the same bars?” That bit of knowledge had slipped through his reports. 

Hanzo cast a glance up at the Commander. The dark face was speculative. “Frequently. Jesse shared stories of how the two groups drank at tables next to one another. Foot soldiers need a place to complain about their work environment. A few spoke to each other. To Jesse as well. It was how we learned the most about the two organizations.”

“So the suggestion to look into my personnel.”

“Strongly recommended. Sombra does not offer advice without cause.”

“And you trust him? Even after Talon had words with him?”

“Commander Reyes, Jesse McCree is many things. First and foremost he is a man of his word. And the most loyal individual to our alliance than I could have expected.”

“Loyal to the alliance. Or to you?” Reyes pinned Hanzo with a knowing gaze. The archer had no response. Until other factors changed the balance, the object of Jesse’s loyalty was one in the same. They would deal with any upsets as they came. Nor did the matter affect Overwatch. The Commander walked away.

Hanzo collected his thoughts. Reyes would not destroy any sense of trust he had in his friends. They had been through too much. Joining Jesse, Sombra and Genji felt like returning to a better time. “Jesse, cooperate with them.”

“I am cooperating with them,” the cowboy protested. The hands cuffed behind his back suggested otherwise. “I gave them my word that I’d stay and answer their questions. But I don’t have to put up with that bastard and his obnoxious attitude.”

Hanzo arched an eyebrow. “You’re not much better. If you don’t capitulate in the attitude department then you will be spending your entire stay either in handcuffs or locked in a cell. That means no access to the practice range. And probably no chance to beat Amari.” McCree groaned as the consequences were laid bare for even his thick skull to comprehend. For being such an observant man, Jesse was incredibly dense. Hanzo readjusted the cowboy hat to an angle more preferred by the gunslinger. “To think that Genji is going to have to keep an eye on you.” He added with a sigh. 

The younger ninja had a smirk that indicated it was a responsibility he was unlikely to be able to handle. Even the hacker’s loud laughter spoke the same. Sombra shoved against Jesse’s shoulder. “You want to keep this guy out of trouble? Hanzo, don’t you realize Sparrow has his hands full with me.”

“She does have a point, brother.” Genji chuckled. “Looking after Jesse was your job. Father’s orders.” That the green haired ninja could even joke about this was a relief. Hanzo felt emboldened to continue.

“That did not stop you from occupying his time for months.” The heir to the Shimada Clan released a small smile. “I’m sure you’re up for the challenge.”

“Alright, very funny.” Jesse groaned. “I am still here, ya know. I’m not gonna get into trouble.”

“Jesse,” Sombra pulled against the cuffs to emphasize her point. “You got these things back on. Because you can’t keep your mouth shut.”

“It won’t be difficult. Commander Reyes isn’t that bad. You might even come to like him.” Genji looped his arm through the cowboy’s and started to lead him to the exit. “Now, you’ve got to tell us about your first meeting with the Commander.”

Hanzo strolled behind them, listening to the cowboy hem and haw in regards to the story. Perhaps because the man in question was trailing behind them all. Along with the Blackwatch soldiers. There was a question as to whether the Commander had disclosed all those details in his debriefings. Without a doubt the entire base would know about the encounter before the sunset. Glancing out a massive window overlooking the mountain range, the sun was just passing its peak. From the moment Genji had taken them to the balcony and now, several hours had passed. He had yet to see a clock, but Hanzo’s educated guess suggested it was early afternoon. There was still a possibility of returning to Hanamura before evening. If the officials of Overwatch were true to their words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: the interrogation scene was the very first scene written following the original short in Treasure Box of Memories. Some continuity edits not withstanding.


	18. Change of Scenery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The halls of the Overwatch Headquarters aren't all that bad. Perhaps a bit lonely.

**Chapter Eighteen: Change of Scenery**

Empty white walls seemed to be the primary decoration within the Overwatch Headquarters. At least the parts Hanzo and his friends were allowed to see. Their rooms for the night were also minimal. They weren’t placed in holding cells. Though without personal belongings the military quarters were close enough. Hanzo made a promise to himself that when he returned to Hanamura he would pack more than just clothing for his friends. Sombra would need practically everything from her room. Jesse’s room was still austere despite how long he had stayed in the castle. They had added a few nicknacks and decorations. Hanzo could send a few that wouldn’t be missed should the cowboy have to depart Switzerland suddenly.

Reyes finally undid the handcuffs from Jesse’s wrists and Hanzo dragged his cowboy into the room provided before any words could be spoken. If only to keep the man from causing more trouble. Hanzo did not need McCree to land himself in an actual cell before the day was done. He knew any warning from the Blackwatch Commander would go unheeded. So Hanzo did not let it happen.

The first thing Jesse did upon entering the spartan room was collapse onto the bed face down into the pillow. Hanzo bit his lip in amusement and waited. Just when he was about to comment, Jesse raised his right hand to point at the archer. Without lifting his head, Jesse gave a muffled groan, “Don’t say a word.” Hanzo caught himself chuckling and grinning at his cowboy’s antics. The man really should have known better. While he waited for Jesse to recover his wits, Hanzo placed a request for a secure phone call to his father. At least as secure as staying in an Overwatch base would allow. Jesse finally rolled to his side. The cowboy hat fell behind him. “She’s good,” he admitted. 

Hanzo nodded. Emotions contained once again. “Aside from the fact that she has been doing this longer than you’ve been alive, she also has a bionic eye.”

“And you didn’t think to tell me that?” Jesse shifted so he could sit on the side of the bed. Only a hint of annoyance bleed through that comment.

With a slight shrug he gave the cowboy a sympathetic smile. “It wouldn’t have made a difference.”

Jesse sighed and flopped carelessly back into the pillow. This time staring at the ceiling. “You’re right.”

A knock at the door followed with Genji’s bright green hair poking through the crack. “I know you’ve got to be starving. We’re heading to the commissary to grab something to eat.”

“I’m waiting on a call to father. We’ll meet you there afterwards.”

“Right. Nice shooting out there, Jesse. Now we just need to keep you out of trouble long enough to do it again.” Genji laughed as he pulled the door shut.

“Was he always that annoying?” McCree scowled at the entryway.

“Yes.” Hanzo did not hesitate. He had other words ready to poke fun at the man who claimed Sombra was worse, but his holographic screen flashed saying that the call to Hanamura connected. When answered the face of his father, Sojiro Shimada, stared back at him. Long hair predominately gray now. The emaciated look following the longterm treatment of cancer was more pronounced on the screen. Still his regal bearing overwhelmed any physical deficits. 

_”Hanzo, this is quite unexpected.”_ The stern Japanese filled the small room. That was to be expected. By now the head of the Shimada Clan would have heard the report from Sora and Zenkichi about the failed mission. Now the heir needed to smooth things over with one hell of an explanation. He was certain that nothing he could say would make up for the lapse.

_”I realize that, father. There was a misunderstanding in Ilios.”_

_”Misunderstanding?”_

With a breath to stabilize himself, Hanzo reported a manipulation of the truth. It was not something he enjoyed, but in this instance was necessary. _”Blackwatch was present to intercept Talon. We did not calculate taking on the brunt of their forces when they misidentified us as Talon. All things have since been clarified as we are now guests in Switzerland.”_

 _”Is that so?”_ Sojiro contemplated the significance of that statement. He would understand that there was much more than could be said over the phone. _”And how long will this visit last?”_

_”I have already sent my travel plans to the drivers. A copy should be in your documents as well. I’ll be leaving late tomorrow afternoon. Sombra has managed to make a deal with them and has chosen to stay. She believes she can obtain better information here than anywhere else. And McCree opted to remain and watch her back. He already has everything he needs to return when he and Sombra are satisfied.”_

_”It would be a good idea for you to cease these excursions.”_

_”I understand, father. I still believe we have learned much more from my excursions than we would by any other method. But they have likely reached the end of their usefulness.”_ Hanzo reluctantly agreed.

The yakuza boss nodded in acceptance. _”I look forward to your return.”_

 _”See you in a couple of days.”_ The call ended. At least his father knew he was safe and not to retaliate against Overwatch. No doubt that was exactly what Sojiro wanted to do. Ridding the world of the overreaching, self-appointed security force would be top of his agenda if he wasn’t already tasked with taking out the all encompassing terrorist organization bent on disrupting illegal trade across the globe. They were big goals. And Talon came first.

Jesse shifted to stand and demanded Hanzo’s attention. He stepped directly in front of the archer as Hanzo turned in the chair. Their legs pressed close as Jesse bent until their foreheads touched. “I’m going to miss you.” Jesse kissed Hanzo’s hairline. That chaste yet intimate gesture warmed the indescribable place deep within his core.

“And whose fault is that?” Hanzo asked pointedly. He would not let the gunslinger sweet talk his way out of the rightful blame.

Jesse returned with an apologetic grin. Brushing his thumb along Hanzo’s cheek, he said, “I take full responsibility.” The cowboy pressed another warm kiss to Hanzo’s hairline and silently savored the moment. “Forgive me?”

Hanzo reached out and cupped his gunslinger’s chin to reciprocate the fond stroking of the man’s cheekbone. His fingers twined through Jesse’s thick sideburns. Those were desperate for a trim. Passing his thumb over the soul patch of beard on the cowboy’s chin, Hanzo accepted that he would not be seeing this face for some time to come. “Maybe tomorrow.”

“You’re killing me, darling.” Jesse groaned. He curled further forward and kept their heads pressed together. “How many more times do I have to say I’m sorry.” The soft words and breaths mingled in the intimate space between.

“Defeat Captain Amari and we won’t have to have this discussion,” Hanzo gave his gunslinger a half smile. Lightly he pushed Jesse’s chest away so he could stand. “I’m starving and Genji is waiting.”

“Now that you mention it. Food sounds great.” Jesse grabbed his hat from where he had left it on the bed. Together they exited and searched for the escort. Genji waved at them from several doors down.

“Over here.” He called, bright green hair a beacon on the stark white walls. Hanzo noticed that he had changed from what had been casual khakis and polo to an Overwatch downtime uniform. Rich blue pants, white shirt with matching blue accents and a matching blue jacket. All of which had the Overwatch white and gold emblem accents. A gold nameplate inscribed with ‘G. Shimada’ rested on his left breast pocket. Hanzo never thought he would see the day when his brother wore a military uniform. “Sombra wanted to change. Apparently the sweats weren’t good enough.”

“What is she changing into?” Jesse eyed the door they stood in front of. “Didn’t think she had any clothes with her.” It wouldn’t be the first time Sombra surprised them with a new outfit after the one she had for combat got ruined. 

“Blackwatch standard uniform. Or something like it. Your clothing will come back from the cleaners tomorrow morning.” 

“That’s mighty kind of them.” McCree chuckled. “Now you’re gonna have to explain this getup.” The gunslinger motioned to the strange ensemble the younger Shimada brother was wearing. Hanzo couldn’t be more pleased that Jesse asked the question than himself. If he had expressed curiosity then Genji would not have laughed it off as he did now.

“This? Didn’t I tell you? Commander Morrison offered me a chance to join Overwatch. Considering I had nowhere else to go, I thought it might be a good idea.”

“A ninja and you didn’t join Blackwatch?” The cowboy scoffed in mock surprise. Genji’s morals aligned more closely with the public aspect of the United Nations backed peacekeeping force.

“Eh… Commander Reyes asked too. But I didn’t want to do the whole ‘from the shadows’ thing anymore. I still work with him occasionally.”

Hanzo chuckled. It was good to see Genji coming into his own. He was no longer the boy hiding in the arcade. His younger brother was standing for all that he believed in. “The uniform suits you. Not at all what I expected, but I’m glad you are making your way in the world. Though I am not so sure about the green hair.” Like old times, Hanzo ruffled the tuff of bright green.

Genji’s face split into a massive grin and ducked away to smooth out his wild locks. “I know! Commander Morrison has been on my case since I got here about it. But there are not actual regulations about hair color. Just that it has to be neatly trimmed. So I keep it just to annoy him.”

“That seems more like it.” Hanzo nodded. His brother always did enjoy being contrary. 

The hiss of an opening door announced Sombra’s exit. “You waited! Alright, so how does it look?” She spun quickly to show off her new Blackwatch ensemble. Standard pants and boots. The form fitted collared shirt had its top buttons undone, sleek long sleeves where she hooked through her thumbs at the end. The thicker jacket was tied around her waist to create the semblance of a skirt. It was a far more conservative look than what they had become accustomed to. To top it all off she sported the red and black skull and dagger emblem they had learned to hate. “I know I’m going to have to create a bunch of alterations and customizations. But guess this will do for now.”

“Are you sure you’re the same hacker that’s been bugging us since Dorado?” McCree had tilted his hat back to give her a good look. “Cause you sure don’t look like the Sombra I know.”

“Very funny.” Though hacker narrowed her eyes at Jesse, the cowboy only grinned and held his hands aloft as if to surrender.

“Now you just need a name tag like Genji,” Jesse quipped, unable to quit while ahead.

“That’s it! I’m finding those handcuffs.” Sombra slapped McCree’s shoulder. They all broke down into laughter. It really did seem as though they had returned to the tightly knit friendship from before Genji’s exile. The four of them could take on the world. First they had to take on Overwatch.

“I believe Genji said something about a commissary?” Hanzo chuckled even as he tried to refocus the conversation.

“Right. This way,” Genji pulled Jesse with him. “You still owe us the full story of how you met Commander Reyes.”

“Come on, it’s not that impressive of a story.” The cowboy protested. It amazed Hanzo that the gunslinger was not eager to boast about this encounter. Escaping from an enhanced soldier was no easy feat. Nor was he ever shy about his failures either. Perhaps being in the Blackwatch Commander’s home base, surrounded by the teammates of those he had killed gave him a new perspective on how his actions affected others.

“But it does sound fun.” Sombra linked her arms on Jesse’s other side. Except for the location it was as if the four of them had never parted ways. Hanzo would miss this when he left.

}{{{}}}{

Hanzo stood in a crisp black suit provided by the Overwatch organization. It was not expensive, not his usual style, but it sufficed. His combat clothing and weapons were contained in unmarked cases and sat at his feet as he waited for his driver. In the early morning hours he had said farewell to Jesse on the promise that the gunslinger would return soon. Jesse was already with Captain Amari at this hour, so Hanzo was just trying to slip out before his brother knew. 

It really was beautiful here with the snow capped mountains reflecting the clear brilliance of the morning sun. The cool clean air was remarkably refreshing. They were well beyond the sounds of the city. It was near silence compared to home. Rather pleasant. It was probably a good thing they were present during the warmer months. Winter in the mountains was not a desirable prospect. 

“You’re going to leave. Just like that? No goodbyes?” Genji called to Hanzo’s back.

Hanzo closed his eyes and released a heavy sigh. “Yes.” Hanzo did not bother to turn around. This was not a discussion he wished to have.

“And Jesse?”

“He is with Captain Amari. He would not renege on his bet.” The heir to the Shimada Clan straightened his lapels in an effort to clear his mind. “Tell me truthfully, you were the one who informed them that he couldn’t refuse an opportunity to show off his skills and that he bets on anything?”

“Did he suspect he was being played?” Genji’s playful smirk rode through in his voice. His little brother had stepped close though he remained behind the yakuza heir. Part respect for Hanzo’s choice, part to force the the archer to make the final connection in this farewell.

Hanzo could not stop the chuckle that rose from him. “Not in the least.”

“You don’t seem too disappointed.”

“The look on his face when he realized he would not be returning to Hanamura was enough. That and when I told him about Captain Amari’s bionic eye.” Hanzo gave a small smile at the memory. It turned sad with the next breath. “I’ll see him again.”

“Brother…”

“Genji, I am grateful to Sombra and Jesse for looking out for you when I did not. I am glad you are safe. But I did not wish to presume that you would even desire to see me off.” Hanzo refused to turn around. He did not want to part from his brother again. Saying farewell now made him want to disregard his decisions and stay. Reconsider the option of denouncing the Shimada Clan. Working within Overwatch might be an acceptable alternative to walking away from Genji yet again. But he had a duty to his family. One Genji had never felt the full weight of.

“And are you leaving without saying goodbye to Jesse?”

“I have already done so. And to Sombra. Those two at least I know I will see again.” Hanzo turned just enough to see his younger brother out of the corner of his eye. Green hair, white and blue uniform. It clashed horribly. It was a wonder that Overwatch had not forced him to grow out the dye. 

“You’re implying that you won’t see me again.” Genji stated. It was an obvious conclusion. Hanzo had not wanted to verbalize it. It sounded so cold and unforgiving.

“It is not that I do not wish to see you again, Genji. It’s that I cannot. Once I return to Hanamura I will be taking father’s place in all but name. If word leaked that I was communicating with you despite your exile, imagine how treacherous my position would be. I never expected to see you again in the first place. I accepted that. Saying goodbye now feels far more final.”

“Hanzo…. I never thought I would get a chance to see you either. At least not in person. But at least let me say one thing. I no longer blame you for what happened. I won’t lie and say I was never furious with you. Or the Council. Nor do I really understand why you acted as you did. But I do know that your actions were dictated by the Elders. You would never have done that otherwise. So when you’re ready to forgive yourself, know that I have chosen to forgive you. But I don’t want you to cut me out of your life. I’m sure Sombra will figure out a way for us to communicate without putting you in jeopardy.” His younger brother spoke in earnest. A desperate plea for someone to understand.

Hanzo turned to fully face his brother. Those words were not ones he ever thought he’d hear. “When did you mature?”

“Several years of therapy. Physical and emotional. It was only one arm.” Genji flexed his right arm and robotic fingers. He seemed contemplative. “When I realized that it could have been so much worse… I understood. You stopped because you realized how wrong you were. I hoped that you realized that. We might fight. Disagree… But in the end we are brothers. We would never do that to each other. Willingly.”

The hum of an engine announced the arrival of his car. Inside was a familiar face. The Clan sent one of their own drivers to take him to the airport. Hanzo should not have been surprised. It was a decent safeguard. The yakuza heir glanced back to the young Overwatch agent. “Hmph, you amaze me, Genji. I still think of you as my little brother. Good for nothing. A troublemaker. You were always strong in spirit, but now you are beyond what I knew. It suits you.” Hanzo bowed low from the waist. On rising he caught a glimpse of shock from his brother. “I should thank whoever helped you to become the man you are now. Instead I will just have to wish you well and hope our next meeting will be on more friendly grounds.”

“Take care, brother. Never fear, I will always be there to irritate you thanks to Sombra.”

“Not an appropriate use of communications, but I suppose coming from you it is entirely expected.” Hanzo waved as he trotted down the stairs to the waiting car. It would take him to the airport and then on to Japan. He would be without his friends for an unknown period of time. At least he had the threat of Genji’s annoyances to look forward to.

{}}}}{{{{}

“Again.” Amari commanded. McCree rolled his eyes at her. She had gone through this drill a hundred times. More as the Deadlock gunslinger refused to change his habits. He could roll his eyes all he wanted, but he at least learned not to talk back during her lessons. As much as the young man complained he was diligent in the drills. Bad habits were just hard to break. “You have a speed loader for a reason. Are you not able to do two things at once? You’ll waste less time if your new set of bullets is inches away as you empty the spent shells.” 

They were dummy bullets. And McCree was tasked with cleaning them all up and starting all over. The only drill they were working on today was loading. For him to increase his effectiveness, McCree needed to shave off several seconds. And this was the place to do it. His aim was rather remarkable. It only needed some improvement. His draw was also decent. It was clear those two areas were the ones he practiced the most.

It had been over a month since the kid had made the bet that got him stuck in Switzerland. Gabriel watched from the observation deck and contemplated the benefit of the biker gang member’s stay. McCree had spent most of his time with Genji. However Genji spent most of his time guarding Sombra and the gunslinger did not do well with sitting still. That left the Blackwatch team to babysit. McCree was officially their prisoner, even with the allowances regarding his stay. Letting him take lessons from Ana Amari and roaming the base with an escort was more than any prisoner got. McCree didn’t abuse it, but he was vocal in his complaints. 

And useless in interrogation.

The kid could not answer even the most basic of questions. Who was in charge of Talon now? What was their goal? How many soldiers did they have? How were they organized? What were they after in India? Mexico? Italy? Reyes got nothing. Sombra wasn’t much better. But at least she had a dump of Talon missives and invoices for his team to decipher. She claimed that as she improved Overwatch’s hardware she would get better results. Gabriel was certain McCree knew more. The question was how to get it out of him.

He watched another couple of rounds. Load, dump, reload. Finally Amari called it quits for the day. Gabriel made his way to the training floor while McCree protested putting his gun into the lockers. They went through this every time. Ana finally had enough. “Look, McCree. In case you haven’t noticed, no one on base carries a weapon unless they are on active guard duty. Now, you can dislike that fact as much as you want, but you will comply and you will stop complaining every session. Or I will put you in lockup and stop training you.”

Gabriel imagined he heard growling from the biker. Then a decisive and angry, “Yes. Ma’am.” McCree’s jaw clicked shut and he stalked towards the armory where a soldier waited to take the revolver.

“You certainly have a way with him,” Gabriel chuckled softly as he watched the scene.

“He’s used to being on his own.” Ana frowned after the kid. “Doubt even the time with Shimada has helped that any. But he does know how to survive in hostile territory.”

“Playing by their rules until he can get out.” Reyes knew that all too well. Ana nodded sagely. “Do you ever think you’re just training him to get better at killing our guys?”

The sniper laughed gently. “Gabriel, I’m trying to give him a reason to not kill our soldiers. A reason to think of us fondly. And with any luck, an urge to join us.”

“How is that working?”

“We’ll see if he can make any other friends here besides Genji.” The Captain shrugged. Her eyes on the tall cowboy with the black Stetson.

“I’ve heard mixed feelings from Blackwatch.”

“I can only imagine. Considering your teams have lost the most in firefights with him.” Ana stopped the conversation as McCree was walking back towards them. “He’s all yours.” She tossed before retreating from the training room, long blue coat snapping in the breeze she created. The Captain had official work to complete.

“Thanks.” Gabriel was not looking forward to the afternoon.

Neither was the biker if his glower was anything to go by. “Is it your turn, Shotguns? Everyone else finally quit?”

“Not yet, they haven’t.” Reyes motioned for the biker to follow him. “Got something different planned.”

“Different?” The kid, young man really already with a bushy untrimmed beard, sounded curious. Probably the first time the Blackwatch Commander had heard that tone from the biker. “Better involve breakfast, ‘cause I’m starving.”

“You can grab something on the way.” The meandering through the halls with gunslinger in tow was just another chore for him today. Gabriel still had his own responsibilities to the Blackwatch department. Getting McCree to open up on Talon was only one task in a mountain. Reyes caught one of his agents casting an evil eye towards the gunslinger. Aaron Boggs had lost his older sister on the first reach into Deadlock Gorge. It was not certain McCree had pulled the trigger, but the kid was the only one present to face the consequences. Boggs wasn’t the only one to feel that way.

The night Shimada stormed the Blackwatch safe house, McCree took out Jordan Dang. An excellent sniper, had been trained by Amari herself. Elmer Hauser took a devastatingly accurate bullet to his thigh that encounter. His femoral vein was severely damaged and if the bullet had entered on the other side, the man would have bled out of his femoral artery before help could arrive. Needless to say that agent had a healthy respect for the biker and an urge for revenge. 

Nor was there any doubt that McCree was aware of the hostile intentions. The man never rose to the bait, never engaged with the men and women he almost killed. Never more than a tip of the obnoxious cowboy hat. The gunslinger was smart. He was in enemy territory. The hope to gain his allegiance was slim. If Reyes had succeeded in bringing him in the first time straight out of Deadlock Gorge, then there might have been a possibility. Instead Shimada took him. The Blackwatch Commander did wonder if Shimada understood what he had. It wasn’t just a triangular alliance. It was personal. The way Jesse McCree reacted when either Sombra or Hanzo were in danger was the type of loyalty only close knit teams formed. He knew because he had seen it. Done it. Would still do it again if anything happened to Jack or Ana.

Gabriel watched the gunslinger gravitate towards Sombra and Genji as he always did. This place was filled with too many enemies for him. The hacker didn’t care. She had a skill none of the others could touch. McCree was just another gunman in the sea of thousands. Most of those here wanted to end his killing streak. A few appreciated his skill. Fewer still could laugh about their near misses. Though all of Blackwatch seemed to agree that how McCree had escaped from their invasion of Deadlock Gorge was nothing short of a miracle. A collection of well timed coincidences. Gabriel preferred not to think about it.

A soldier came up from behind him. A familiar step and comforting presence. “Ana says he’s improving at remarkable rate.” Jack Morrison. The only one who knew the whole story. “She’s worried she might not have much more to teach him. How are things on your end?”

“Not as smoothly as I would like. If he knows the answers to any of our questions, he’s not sharing.” Gabriel frowned in the cowboy’s direction.

“He’s not a soldier, Gabe. Stop treating him like one.”

“Could have fooled me.” Reyes scowled. “You haven’t watched your entire team massacred because of his decisions in the middle of battle. I read reports of how what should have been a complete rout of both Talon and Shimada forces turn into a free-for-all brawl because of him.”

“The China Encounter, I presume?”

Gabriel nodded. “That mission on the docks can only barely be called a success. We kept both parties from highjacking the cargo ship, but the cost was high and we got no one from Talon or Shimada.”

“And you’re blaming him.”

“Of course I’m blaming him. He was the only one not accounted for when the agents took their positions. No one knew Shimada had a sniper. Somehow six people destroyed a perfectly good plan.”

Jack chuckled, earning him Gabriel’s annoyed glare. “Sounds to me like you’re desperate to get this kid on board.”

“What do you think I’ve been doing for the past decade? I find this kid, loose him. He vanishes from all radars and suddenly shows up in Hanamura? It’s because of him that our infiltration of Shimada Castle failed. We were that close to taking them down for good.” Gabriel represented the distance with his thumb and forefinger nearly touching. “Now, we’d be lucky to get him to stop attacking Overwatch.” Reyes sighed. He had his work cut out for him. “Any luck on your end?”

“Hanzo? No. He will not join as things stand now.” Jack shrugged. “Now if you convince McCree to stay, then he might follow. Where one goes, so does the other.”

“There in lies the problem. Sombra is staying out of personal gain. They are using her position for their own benefit. For them to stay, they need a more compelling reason to leave their gangs behind. I’ve been recruiting men and women like this for years. Usually they only make the switch when we’ve destroyed the gang they would have gone back to.” Reyes always made a point of finding the absolute best and getting them on board. It didn’t matter their history or criminal record. So long as they suited the job, he took them. Made them better.

“Sounds like you got your work cut out for you this time.” Jack clapped him on the shoulder. “Try not to treat him like a soldier. As as far as I can tell, he likes to talk. So let him.” Jack knew how to read people, so the advice was well placed.

“You haven’t had to sit in a room with him.”

“Not yet. And probably for the best. Well, unless you would rather sit through Director Petras’s endless string of mandates, I leave you to it.” Sharing well deserved sympathies, Gabriel watched the Strike Commander leaved the cafeteria with his head held high. The blond hair was turning more white than golden from the stress but he never let it show in his bearing. Reyes did not envy him. 

Glancing at the gunslinger and hacker, Gabriel wondered if he had made the right choice. It was not often he felt the need to reconsider his plans. Jack was right. McCree was not a soldier. No matter how intelligent, instinctive, or creative, the man was just a biker from Deadlock Gorge. He likely did not know what he was capable of. Well, it was time to show him.

Reyes interrupted the banter. “Alright, kid. Let’s go.” McCree groaned but he did stand to follow. The young man was playing by their rules, keeping his head down. Waiting for his opportunity. 

The gunslinger reluctantly trailed behind him through the white walls of the Switzerland Headquarters. As they turned a different corner than to the usual conference room, McCree’s step grew more hesitant. His gaze took on a more curious glint. He was studying the new surroundings carefully. It seemed unconscious on the cowboy’s part, but not lost on the Blackwatch Commander. This was the type of vigilance that had kept the kid alive. Taking McCree into his command center would give the kid a taste of what he could be doing. When Reyes brought up the massive screen, he had to hastily remove the ever present picture of Jack Morrison. McCree did not need to know. The rest of the screen showed pictures of everyone they knew to be associated with Talon. It was not nearly as extensive as he would have liked. Without Gerard, the investigations fell to him. There was no one else he could trust.

“So this is your office, huh?” The gunslinger sounded almost impressed. He spun slowly to take it all in. It was a large room considering it only housed one desk and chair. Most of that space was occupied by the overhead projection. This was the core of Overwatch. Information gathering. The difficult decisions. Everything the Strike Commander needed to conduct his business upstairs. “No wonder you don’t get out much.”

“I get out more often than you think.” The Blackwatch Commander gave the kid a slide long glance.

McCree snorted in disbelief but his eyes were glued to images above him. “So you’re following our good friend Akande. What I wouldn’t give to get a bullet through his head. That damn bastard is trying to make himself near invincible with those nanos of his.”

Reyes scanned the pictures trying to pick out the one the gunslinger was referring to, however the name was lost on him. “Which one?” He resorted to asking.

“That one.” The biker motioned to the photo two massive Africans squaring off against each other in some city rubble. One standing proud with red face paint, the other coiled and ready to strike with the Doomfist gauntlet leading the way. Akande must be the younger of the two. “He’s got the gauntlet now too. And let me tell you, that thing packs a wallop.”

Enlarging the image, Reyes needed clarification on McCree’s descriptions. “You’ve encountered him before?”

“Akande? Yup. Tried to get Mr. Shimada to join Talon, then almost killed him. Met him again in Utopaea. Fairly certain he was behind the assassinations there, seeing as he was no where to be found in the aftermath.” McCree looked like he was about to spit in disgust before remembering where he was. Reyes understood the sentiment.

So many new questions arose from that little speech alone. The Blackwatch Commander focused on the first that came to mind. “So Akande is now Doomfist. Interesting.”

“Doomfist? That’s a rather high and mighty title.” McCree chuckled to himself.

“What happened to Akinjide Adeyemi?”

“Who?”

Gabriel suppressed his frustrated sigh. They had different angles of reference. The gunslinger might not have known that to begin with. Not if his only contact had been with this Akande. “The man who had the gauntlet before him.”

“Hmm…” McCree scratched at his beard. “Well… if the conversation I had with him in Utopaea is anything to go by, his old mentor is dead. At least that’s how it sounded to me. Seemed too final and too pleased about it.”

“What was he doing in Utopaea?”

“The World’s Fair. Don’t tell me you didn’t hear about the assassinations?” McCree laughed. Reyes just waited. He had heard of the deaths of the Premier of China and the Prime Minister of India, but he did not know what Doomfist had to do with any of it. “You really don’t know do you? Akande Ogundimu owns and operates some big prosthetic firm. Gotta love these guys. Parading around as the big shots of some company all the while funding criminal empires behind the scenes. Mr. Shimada does it with class. Akande, force of will. Even listened to some soldiers talk about an Italian, Antonio, funding most of their big jobs. All of them as slippery as eels. Guess that’s one thing I miss about back home. There was no pretending to be on the right side of the law.”

Morrison was right. This kid liked to talk. When given free reign. Though very little actually helped with his current investigations. If Gerard Lacroix was still with them, perhaps this little speech would mean much more. Gabriel did have to interrupt because something did not add up. “You mean to tell me you were at the World’s Fair in Utopaea?”

“Sure was.”

“How?” This biker from the backwaters of New Mexico would never have made it pass the airport security.

“Ask Hanzo and Sombra. I was just along for the ride.” McCree shrugged. His gaze returned to the massive projection of Talon operatives. No matter how unbelievable, the Commander just had to accept the answer and move on.

Reyes decided to take up the only avenue he currently understood. “So what do you know about Antonio Bartalotti?” The screens filled with the wide smile and bearded face of the Italian smuggler. Blackwatch had been following the man for years and had never been able to pin anything to him.

“That’s him?” McCree frowned, clearly disappointed. “Always thought he’d be smaller. Stories go that he prides himself having a private army on the payroll. Likes to think of himself as the banker to the criminal world. Those that worked on his jobs can’t say he’s much more than a wallet for the more ambitious. But he is stingy. Apparently he works with the bare minimum to get a job done if it involves anything except his own safety. Most soldiers don’t like working skeleton crews. And he seems particularly fond of explosives. Another reason soldiers don’t like him. They don’t have a clue if their target is going to be blown up with them in the blast radius. Now the one I’d stay away from based on stories is Vialli. He’s a mean bastard. Solely focused on profit. With a take no prisoners mindset. The biggest story going on around him was how he derailed a train just to kill one guy. Five hundred dead, including the soldiers sent in to do the job. Somehow made it all look like an accident and walked away with millions in the insurance payout in addition to the bounty.”

“How much of that do you believe is true?” It was a dangerous man that produced stories like that. 

“Considering how often it was repeated… I’d say most of it is true. Obviously some of the goons sent in to derail the train made it out.”

“And how did you come by all this information?”

“Told ya, soldiers like to drink and complain. Some like to boast. Get them drunk on enough booze and you got yourself the best truth serum in the world. Get them talking about what ails them or what they’re proud of and they won’t shut up. Your own guys are much the same.” McCree grinned over his shoulder. “Heard you had a close call in Cairo.”

“Thought they knew better than to tell strangers about our missions.”

“Aw, give them a break, Shotguns. I did make sure they were dead drunk before they started talking. And they were damn proud of the job you did. Made me wonder how you lost Deadlock Gorge.” McCree’s grin never faltered as he made a dig at their first encounter. The cocky teenager Reyes had met in the desert shone through in that statement.

“You know full well how.”

“Ain’t apologizing.”

“Too late for that now anyway.” Reyes took a seat in his chair, suddenly feeling the weight of the world back on his shoulders. He passed through the images and reports, hoping to find one that triggered the gunslinger’s memories. “What else did these Talon soldiers talk about?”

“Same thing all foot soldiers talk about. The next paycheck and what they were going to spend it on. There were a few diehards that talked about a new world order. Wouldn’t put it past Akande to be driving that agenda. Other than that, don’t think there’s much more to tell.”

McCree was probably right. Any future conversation would be all about speculation. It helped in planning for the long run, but having a base of information to start with was far preferred. “I have a proposition for you then.” As he turned just enough to see the gunslinger from the corner of his eye, Reyes caught the raised brow of surprise. “Follow me for a couple of days. You might have some interesting insights into what we do.”

“You do know that’s gonna make it easier to stop your goons.”

“As I understand it, we’re basically on the same side now. Sombra feeds you information. Shimada returns the favor. And by the time Talon is down for the count, we’ll both have changed procedures.” It was a risky offer. But if he wanted McCree to stay then he had to treat the kid less like a prisoner and more like a comrade. They would never trust each other completely. But a truce was a chance. The wheels of thoughts were turning behind McCree’s eyes. No doubt trying to find a loophole in the offer and coming up with a risk-benefit analysis. Reyes had to remember that the cowboy was loyal to more than just the Shimada Clan. He still held tight allegiance to the Deadlock Rebels. Unlike Sombra who seemed keen on dropping previous allegiances once they no longer suited her, McCree clung to his roots. He would not betray those that backed him. He must be realizing that being friendly with Overwatch now could go over one of two ways.

Either the knowledge McCree gained here would ultimately benefit the leaders of the Deadlock Rebels. Making Reyes’s job at taking them down more difficult. Or those very same leaders would assume McCree a lost cause and a traitor for even this bit of cooperation. Anything more might guarantee that sentiment. Of course that all hinged on the Deadlock Rebels learning about McCree’s stay in Overwatch. 

“Ah hell, might be interesting,” McCree chuckled. The gunslinger’s fate rested on how he explained away this encounter.

{}}}}{{{{}

It was late. Much too late for the tinkering of screwdrivers and clattering of keyboards. While Winston was known to stay up late to work on his projects, Sombra knew the gorilla understood the need for rest and never stayed up past two. It was now four in the morning when most sensible soldiers were thinking about their morning workout. She had seen a few of the obnoxiously early ones jogging the grounds already. Her excuse for still being awake was that she had been listening in on conversations happening in different timezones. 

Sombra had been on this base for a couple of months now. She already had her routine and knew everyone else’s. She also knew who yelled the loudest when she opened doors without knocking. When Winston did not glance up from the strange piece of equipment, Sombra’s curiosity increased. A flicker in a nearby human sized chamber caught her attention. “Was that… a person?” If her eyes hadn’t betrayed her, then she had seen a young, slender person flash ghostlike within the sealed glass box behind the great ape’s workbench.

“Huh?” Winston broke from his trance. Tools and electronics forgotten on the workbench. “Sombra? What are you doing here?”

“I came to find out why you were still up. This is a new record for you. So was that actually a person?” Sombra couldn’t place a gender on that momentary flash.

“That is classified as top secret.”

“Aw, come on Winston,” she wheedled. “You know that only means I don’t know about it because I didn’t know it was there to be found. So… let me help.” Sombra poked at the strange device, trying to decipher its function based on looks alone. It almost looked like a particle accelerator.

“No, Sombra.” Winston tried to sound firm but a flash of the stranger creased his expressive face into sadness. His eyes scrunched in frustration.

“How long have you been working on this?” The hacker tried a different angle. “You know I could help.”

“No, Sombra. Commander Reyes has you focused on Talon. He does not need you distracted on other projects.”

“Now Winston, you know me better than that.”

“I do.” The massive scientist readjusted his glasses and managed a half hearted glare in her direction. The big guy really wasn’t good at it. “In the few short months I have known you, I have learned that you care more for technology than the lives of our teammates.”

“Pfft,” Sombra waved off the criticism. She just didn’t have any compelling reason to care about the Overwatch team yet. They didn’t like her so she didn’t bother to help them. “But you also know that if I helped you, you would have this done in no time. Save that guy—“

“Girl.”

“Whatever.” Picking up the circular device and studying it closely, Sombra could tell that it would require a better energy source than currently strapped to it. Or a redesign. Winston’s great paw of a hand gently took it from her. The hacker shrugged and continued her pitch. “Save her from whatever it is that has her trapped. I know you can do it. But just think, together we would create unheard of technologies in record time.”

“No. Commander Morrison would not allow it.”

“Morrison doesn’t need to know. I bet we could fix whatever you call this before he ever finds out. Come on, Winston, you’re working on a molecule stabilizer. I just have be a part of that.” Her brain was already filled with ideas on how to make this work and other uses for these new technologies. Now that she had a taste, her brain would not stop conducting mental experiments. Winston also had to know that she would break into his research now that Sombra knew it existed. “Who is she?” Sombra pushed, leaning into the gorilla’s shoulder. Appealing to his better nature almost always won out.

“Test pilot Lena Oxton. She was lost in an experimental fighter. Presumed dead. Now…” Winston’s great golden eyes swept mournfully towards glass coffin of a chamber. “It was hard enough to contain her within this field, but even this is barely stable.”

“Please, let me help.” Sombra sighed as Lena flickered before them again. The pilot looked so lost. Finding intel on the Talon elite was exciting and all, but this was new. This was something she didn’t know, didn’t yet understand. But she also knew she could fix this. She had taken apart so many pieces of technology just to see how they worked that she knew for certain she could reverse engineer anything in existence. Sombra could see Winston weakening. He was likely exhausted from staying up all night on this project and could see how two people would make the work easier. Though it almost pained her to do it, Sombra made the decision that would get her access to this highly classified tech. “Let me work on this with you and I’ll owe you one hell of a favor.”

“Sombra…”

“You know it’s a good deal, my friend. You get Lena out. I get the scoop on experimental tech. And you get my help on any other mundane science project you have going on.”

“You’re only doing this for the technology.”

“Well, yes.” Sombra wasn’t going to lie about her motives. Winston saw through them anyway. “But she’s trapped. I never did like that feeling…” It was probably more than she had ever given away regarding her history. Sombra had used her smarts to get out of her small corner of the world and everything that had trapped her in that dead end city. Gaining the new technologies was her primary reason, but no one deserved to be trapped. Bullied for blackmail was different.

Winston pushed the glasses back into place. The gorilla had become one of the few people, to use the term loosely, to tolerate her to any degree. Sure he argued against most of her proposals. Balked at her attempts to refurbish his lab. Rightfully so as it had been a ploy to see what he was working on. But he did listen when she could improve the speed and efficiency of his experiments. Or when she had crazy ideas that she didn’t have the knowledge base to build. Sometimes even offered solutions. Sombra was a hacker. Not an engineer. 

And their hypothetical conversations bored every other scientist in the room after the first three hours. Their discussion on the advancement of hard light technology had lasted half a day.

“If Commander Reyes finds that this is inhibiting your surveillance, or if Commander Morrison finds out and restricts your access, then you must abide by their decisions.” The gorilla was firm in his statement but his eyes crinkled in amusement. Sombra knew the grin that flashed across her face was the cause.

“You won’t regret this, Winston.” Sombra bumped his shoulder again, this time to encourage him to move. “Get yourself a nap. I’ll read up on Lena’s troubles. And bring back some coffee.”

“Haven’t you gone to sleep yet?”

“Nope. That’s what coffee is for. You really should have a machine in your office. Don’t worry, I’ll be fine. And I’ll get a nap when you come back.” Winston shook his great head and shuffled off. Sombra had a burst of energy now that she had a new project. “Alright Athena. Let’s get to work. I want to see everything pertaining to Lena Oxton.” 

“Sombra, your clearance is not of a high enough level.”

“Athena, pull up the files or I pull out Aries. You know I will be reading them before breakfast regardless.” Sombra chuckled as the files populated the holographic screen before her. Reyes had learned early on not to exclude her from anything. That only guaranteed her involvement.

{}}}}{{{{}

It was on a lower isolated balcony that Jesse finally managed to slip the Blackwatch goons escorting him. It wouldn’t last long. The ever present A.I. would locate him upon their asking. But it was enough time to grab a smoke and listen to everything Hopkins wanted to rage about now. There wasn’t much he could do while stuck in the mountains. His boss would demand the impossible and Jesse had no other choice than to say wait. It was a never ending stream of demands and contradictions. Half the time he wondered if Hopkins was trying to sabotage the alliance. The other half Jesse was certain his boss was trying to get further in for the profit of arms dealings. Things had never been so good for the gang.

Now that he was in with Overwatch, the tips and tricks to stay out of their way was a never ending torrent. Reyes had made a decision to have Jesse join him on his daily rounds. That alone was an eyeopener. It was gang warfare on steroids. Jesse had no idea most of these organizations existed or how deep they went into their state governments. Sombra even had files showing him exactly which politician Hopkins kept in his back pocket. That was news to him. And made some of the seemingly contradictory orders understandable.

Of course he had no idea how he was supposed to leave Hanamura to take out the Peruvian Prime Minister’s bodyguards. Or slip away while at Shanghai’s docks to steal a case of state of the art batteries. Just to name a few. Every one of those extra jobs required a team. It wasn’t something he could do alone. Jesse sighed as he remembered the scathing messages after he explained why he couldn’t complete such tasks. Those almost always ended with Hopkins saying that they would find another way. But Jesse never understood what the overall objective for these tasks were in the first place. And Hopkins wasn’t keen on sharing. 

As McCree constantly reminded his boss that his job was to stick close to Shimada and relay all information regarding their deals, instabilities, and secrets. And with that he did a decent job when it came to things Hopkins needed to know. There were definitely things his boss had no business knowing. Without a doubt Mr. Shimada’s health would be of interest to the gang, but McCree couldn’t divulge that. It was too personal. Nobody had any business knowing someone else’s health like that. Jesse wished he didn’t know.

He ran his fingers over his Deadlock Rebels tattoo and searched for the bulge that indicated where the highly experimental government tech was surgically implanted in his arm. Mixed in with actual shotgun pellets that they never bothered to remove and sitting on the right wing nearest to the skull. The only difference was that it was larger than actual shotgun pellets. But not by much. By holding it down for three seconds he turned off the dictation buzzing in his stolen earbud. Holding it for five more seconds started a new slot for his answer. “Message received. Still in Switzerland. Sombra’s sent information on the known Talon forces to Shimada Castle. No sign they’re interested in Deadlock right now. Nor is Overwatch.” Seven seconds and the recording ended and was automatically sent off to the main receiver. He spoke barely above a whisper but the thing had been tuned to his voice alone. No one else’s would be recorded.

Because of the time difference, Jesse wouldn’t get a reply until he was sound asleep. He still had a couple of hours until lights out. It would be better to be found before his escort really had to go looking for him. They already knew he snuck out often to smoke. Jesse did wonder how much longer Reyes was going to play this game. Both of them knew Jesse was never going to join Blackwatch. No amount of expert training was going to help change his mind. 

He would admit that sitting in on a mission planning session had been a revelation. Nothing big. Nothing pertaining to Talon, Shimada, or Deadlock. Just a drug cartel running out of Turkey. The Prime Minister had asked for assistance in containing their threat to some small town. Basically McCree watched Reyes and his crew maneuver holographic images across a map to determine the best place to strike. When Jesse found a weak spot in their defense, Reyes simply accepted the criticism and asked for a way to improve. 

He had never been part of a planning session. The oddball missions Hanzo came up with had the yakuza boss in training doing the major planning behind closed doors. Whenever Jesse was asked to provide input it was usually in the middle of the fight once something went wrong. Not that he really minded. He wasn’t a member of the Shimada Clan. He wasn’t even that high up within the Deadlock Rebels. Jesse was just a hired gun.

But to be able to fix those weak spots before they happen… That was a different feeling all together.

“We need to talk.” The annoyed pitch of the Mexican hacker’s voice pierced through any thoughts Jesse might have gathered. And if Sombra found him, then the Blackwatch escort wasn’t far away.

Jesse drew in a long breath through his cigarette. Somehow she always knew when he preferred to be alone. “About what?”

“How are you communicating all this back to Deadlock?”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t lie to me, Jesse.” Sombra poked him hard in the chest. This close to the railing it made the cowboy nervous. In addition to her chosen topic of conversation. “I’ve been monitoring an intermittent… rather spontaneous transmission for months. Aires first noticed it not long after the Talon attack. I couldn’t pin it to you until that same signal appeared here. It is highly compressed and appears more like static. Gone before I could capture it and decode it. So how?”

“You didn’t notice until Aries?” That was newsworthy. Though if Sombra’s improvised A.I. found it, didn’t that mean Athena could as well?

“Nope. But now that I know it’s you, you have to tell me. You think I’m gonna rat you out now that I work with Blackwatch? Please. I still keep Jefe informed. And if it is something big I’ll find out about it through other means.” As expected, the hacker was relentless.

Jesse debated, then sighed. There really was not point in keeping it from her now that she had pinned the communication line. Bluffing would only make her angry. “Some classified military experiment we found on an ordnance train. The tech guys figured out how to work it. Boss thought he would sell it until Shimada came up with their alliance. What better way to get the inside scoop on the yakuza than being in the middle of it all.”

Sombra pursed her lips and did some quick thinking. “So, first thing… Does Hopkins still plan on double crossing Shimada once he reaches the markets he’s after?”

“Beats me. He’s now got buyers in India and Australia. From there the only place he won’t do business in is Europe.”

“You know that if he does cause trouble with Shimada half the world will hate him.”

“I ain’t the boss, so I can’t really say anything.” Jesse hedged.

“Alright…” Sombra didn’t buy it as an answer. Nor did she press the issue. “Second thing. What is this experimental technology you speak of? How does it work?”

“Sombra, you really think I know the answers to that?” The hacker just looked at him expectantly. Jesse focused on his cigarette again, hoping to give himself time to find an answer. “Right, so here’s what I know. I got this device implanted in my arm. Can connect to it with just about any ear piece. I usually just receive and listen. But I can send messages. It’s primarily voice controlled but touch turns it on and off.”

“Jesse, I take it back. You have my admiration for sticking an experimental piece of tech in your arm. And I get to call you stupid for not understanding everything there is to know about it.” Sombra whacked him on the shoulder. “Now where is it?”

Another deep sigh in resignation and Jesse rotated his arm to reveal the tattoo. He ran his fingers along the edge of the black lines until he found the right mound. “Here. I already got shotgun pellets there. No one would notice another one.” There was barely any scar from the surgery. Sombra’s slender fingers lightly ran across the same area until she also noticed the difference in the pellet size.

“So when are you going to tell Hanzo?”

Jesse grimaced. It was the last thing he wanted to discuss with the young Shimada heir. Anything they had or were building would crumble the moment he said anything. He was just starting to make a connection that was not simply physical attraction. If Hanzo hadn’t been the intriguing mix of beauty and intelligence then Jesse might not have this issue. But just when Jesse thought he had the archer figured out, Hanzo revealed a new side. Nor did he back down when McCree brought an argument. He was quick with his comebacks. And a smart ass to boot. Jesse never wanted to reveal this to him. Never expected to get so close where it would be an issue. “Don’t know. Never seems to be a good time.”

“The longer you wait, the harder it will be. Besides, he already knows you talk to Hopkins. Just like he talks to his ninjas. Just like I talk to Sosa. It’s not a big secret, Jesse. He might even be impressed you’ve been able to keep it hidden for so long.”

“Then he’ll want to know what Hopkins’s orders are.”

“Doesn’t he do that already?”

Narrowing his eyes at the hacker, McCree scowled around his cigarette. She really did butt her nose into everything. “Is it really your business what I tell him? Or when?”

Sombra cocked her head to the side and gave him a baleful glare. “When isn’t it my business.” The glare vanished as the hacker turned her back on him. “But, you can bet I won’t be the one to tell him. Oh! Before I forget.” Sombra changed tones abruptly into excited cheerfulness and produced a small black tablet. “It’s past time you had a phone. I’m sick of not being able to reach you or having to set up your calls. It will be the best way to reach me when you leave. But for now,” Sombra leaned in close and tapped the metal and glass device against his chest. “Call your boyfriend. Watching you pine after him is pathetic.”

“I am not pining.” McCree tore the phone from her grip as she laughed.

“Sure. Whatever you say. Why else would you seek out the most isolated balcony on base that still looks east.” Sombra was already to the threshold as she waved over her shoulder. “Night, Jesse.”

He was left alone with his cigarette butt and a phone. But if he called, would Hanzo really want to be interrupted? And what would they talk about anyway? Did it really matter? Just catching up on the months they’d been apart would keep both of them up for hours. No matter how amazing the night sky was, it wasn’t the same without someone to share it with. Even if the stars were holographic. One of these days he would take Hanzo to see real stars. If they survived this bizarre alliance that now included Overwatch.


	19. Surprise Attachments

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jesse and Sombra learn that friends can come from anywhere. Even those formerly called enemies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENTS:
> 
> 1: I feel the end of this story coming soon. I cannot say how many chapters or months it will take, but the climax is not far away. That being said....
> 
> 2: There is a sequel planned. No estimation on date of release, but I'm developing the plot now. 
> 
> 3: And in the next few chapters there will be a few scenes that could get explicit. Because doing so would change the pace of this piece, I have decided to put the explicit content in a story of its own.
> 
> Look for the new content in the collection Criminal Universe.

**Chapter Nineteen: Surprised Attachments**

The words she uttered at the end of their last training session sent cold chills of dread dripping down his spine. “There is nothing more I can teach you.” Captain Ana Amari was a woman of few words. Everything she said was to the point. Jesse never sensed a hidden agenda either. If there was nothing more she could teach him, then what did he gain from being stuck in the Swiss Alps.

Sombra was occupied with some grand, private project. She voluntarily holed up with the genetically modified gorilla for days on end and never spoke a word about what she was doing. Genji had his own duties to the Overwatch organization now that they seemed satisfied Sombra would not double cross them. At least not immediately. Jesse though still had a chaperone. It seemed to be the same cycle of four with intermittent appearances by Commander Reyes.

Today Letov seemed particularly distant. Jesse knew better than to ask. His questions only seemed to aggravate anyone outside of the Blackwatch Commander. Without any direction for the day, Jesse gravitated to the isolated balcony where he could smoke in peace. It seemed to be the one activity he could do without anyone bothering him. Letov did not smoke and stayed inside. The balcony overlooked a massive ravine so there was no possible way Jesse could escape from there. Not without an aircraft. And anything flying this close to the Headquarter’s airspace would be noticed.

He pulled out his phone and hovered over Hanzo’s contact information. Jesse had only contacted him a few times. Fewer still where the young yakuza boss in training could talk for any length of time. McCree had been in Switzerland for several months too long now. If he had thought the Hanamura castle was a cage, this was a hundred times worse. And now he did not have his twice a week lessons with the greatest sniper known to man. He was back to nothing productive to do. Never a good combination.

McCree bit the bullet and pressed the call button. It was only early evening in Japan. With any luck Hanzo had finished the family dinner but not yet started his late night work. Two rings and then an abrupt answer, “ _Moshi, moshi_.” Voice only. As usual.

“Hey, Hanzo.”

“Jesse!” Apparently Hanzo did not bother to check the identification on his phone before answering. It was his private line so McCree shouldn’t be surprised. “This is a surprise. You’re usually busy Friday afternoons.”

“New development. Amari says she can’t teach me anything more.” His statement was answered by silence. Not unexpected. It was big news to take in. “And Shotguns is occupied with some other investigation so I’m stuck with a reluctant Letov for company right now.”

“So, no indication as to when they’ll let you go.” The deep voice on the other end held reservations. As if the acting yakuza boss was not sure of Jesse’s mood in regards to the news.

The cowboy growled in irritation. The snowcapped peaks glistening in the afternoon sun mocked his state of mind. “Nope. Sombra is having a blast though. She’s got some special project with Winston. And won’t even tell me about it.” The amused chuckle he got as a response did not help his mood.

“Is this a request for me to come get you?” The ninja sounded way too entertained by the thought.

“No.” Jesse groused, chewing on his cigarette. He had lost the bet and would adhere to the parameters. If only he knew when Reyes would be satisfied with the knowledge McCree had given him. There was nothing more he could offer regarding Talon. Blowing out a frustrated stream of smoke, Jesse continued, “I just wish they would make up their minds already. I’ve told them everything. Even about that chance encounter you had with that Max character.”

“Maximilien. I trust you told them the conversation was brief and strictly regarding the regulations of casinos in Malaysia.”

“What kind of idiot do you take me for?” Jesse growled at his own phrasing the moment it came out of his mouth. Somehow even half a world away, McCree could feel that arched eyebrow rising ever higher. “Scratch that. Sombra did enlighten them as to the rest of Max’s dealings.”

“Then what is the next plan of action?”

“Beats me. Shotguns has been getting me involved in a few of his less important mission briefings. Seems to think I’ll have an interest in keeping his goons alive. And every time I see Goldilocks, he’s got this frown on his face as if he doesn’t know why I’m still here.” Jesse turned to he could lean against the railing. It put the magnificent view behind him, but not out of sight. The impressive mountain range reflected back at him in the glass. It was a reminder that he would never get out of the eyes of Overwatch. 

Hanzo gained a clinical air to his analyzing. The man wasn’t here. Jesse knew his archer would be if able. The thought alone gave him great company on the many isolated nights within the Overwatch Headquarters. Instead Hanzo could only discuss Jesse’s troubles. Nothing he said would change this strange incarceration. “I’m inclined to agree with him. From the sound of it, there is nothing more either party can learn from your stay. I’ll have to get with Sombra and see about extracting you should Morrison not heed his end of the deal. The only thing left is their recruitment of you into their ranks.”

“Me? You’re joking right? As if I’d ever consider joining these folks.”

“It won’t stop them from trying.”

“Hey, Hanzo.” He needed a break from this conversation. Jesse received a hum in response. “You doing alright?”

“Of course.”

“So the board meetings aren’t too much?”

“Thank you for your concern, Jesse. I am managing as well as can be expected. Your presence here is greatly missed and it would provide a much appreciated distraction.”

“But…”

“But unless Hopkins is demanding your return, it would benefit us to have two sets of eyes within Overwatch. In addition to maintaining their good will.” Hanzo paused. Jesse didn’t bother to say a word. The acting yakuza boss knew his feelings on the matter. And it wasn’t good will and understanding. “And you’re glaring at me.”

“Well you’re not the one stuck here.”

“No. I am not. However the bargain I made with Morrison is unprecedented —”

“Which you made without consulting anyone.”

“Jesse, you know good and well that Sombra was going to join Blackwatch the moment she opened her mouth. They weren’t going to let you go. I mitigated the damage as best I could. You were the one whose foolish bet stuck you there.” Silence on both ends of the phone. Jesse could only hear his own teeth grinding against the cigarette butt. Hanzo released a heavy breath, filled with annoyance. “I never expected the Strike Commander to agree to it. Hopkins and Sosa are concerned about this sharing of knowledge. I am trying to ease their concerns. To make them understand that this apparent partnership will eventually work in our favor. We are on the verge of loosing this alliance and letting Talon have free reign to take us out one at a time.”

“Hanzo, stop.” Jesse scrubbed his brow. Every time he called the archer, it always ended up being about business. He was frustrated enough by being watched every waking hour of the day. He did not need directions from half a world away. Nor did he care what the bosses discussed. He was going to stay with Hanzo regardless. Though when Hanzo started treating Jesse like one of his wakaishou, Jesse had to draw the line. He did not belong to the Shimada Clan even if he was a hired gun. “I didn’t call you to talk about work. Just once I want to have a normal conversation.”

“Jesse, there is nothing normal about any of this.”

“No? Well, try this on for size: I miss you.” Jesse took a deep breath and continued to push through this emotional taboo. “I miss you. I miss being able to spend an afternoon laying in your lap. I miss watching you try to hide your smile behind a smirk. Yeah, the one you’re doing right now.” Jesse chuckled. He could picture it. Hanzo sitting behind his desk cluttered with paperwork, the man’s lips curled into a private smile. Right side slightly higher than the left as he bit back the grin only to have an amused smirk bleed through. “I miss spending the evening watching the city lights and swapping stupid stories over drinks.”

“Perhaps you should be more circumspect in regards to your absurd bets in the future.”

“You’re just not going to let that go, are you?”

“Not until you return. Jesse… I miss you as well.” Hanzo’s voice dropped lower and gained a fondness that Jesse equated to love. They still hadn’t admitted it to one another, but Jesse knew that for them to survive this long distance relationship to any degree love had to be a part of it. “Particularly your enthusiasm. How you put forth everything into accomplishing what you want. And you know what I miss the most? That massive grin of yours that says you already know you’ve won and won’t accept any other result.”

A soft smile curled around his cigarette. “Isn’t that the sweetest thing you’ve said in ages.”

“Now find out what it will take for Reyes to give up on recruiting you and send you back.”

“You sure do know how to ruin the mood.” Jesse’s smile abruptly turned into a scowl. He couldn’t be angry. The archer showed his attachment in different decidedly unromantic ways.

“It’s a gift.” Hanzo returned dryly causing a chuckle to rise from Jesse chest. “But I do want you to return soon. I may not be as talented in the romance department as you would like, but I do miss your company.” Those words eased some of the pain within Jesse’s heart. He knew this about Hanzo and tried to be tolerant. To hear that his archer was also well aware of this short coming made it easier to bear. He would keep trying. Hanzo it seemed wasn’t finished. “I am sorry, Jesse. I have a business meeting arriving soon. Thank you for calling.”

“Anytime, darling.” Jesse said warmly. It wasn’t the same as being within the same room. But it was close enough. “You take care of business. Just means I won’t have anyone to annoy with my lengthy showers.”

“You would end with something so absurd. Goodbye, Jesse.” Hanzo ended the call with a soft laugh. It was a delightful sound. One that would stay with him until the next phone call. Jesse tucked the phone into his back pocket and focused on the remainder of his cigarette. Just to savor the memory of Hanzo’s voice. 

Out here staring at the snow covered mountains, he was a world away from anything he knew. No painted desert as far as the eye could see. No cherry blossoms dusting the world. Only the distant ragged peaks, hemming in the base from all sides. Too distant to touch. Too massive to scale. Just another prison wall. Keeping him from where he wanted be.

Snuffing the cigarette butt on the cement railing and tossed it over the side, Jesse sighed with reluctance. Time to go back in. As expected the Blackwatch guard lounged against the wall at the entrance to the balcony. “Come on, Letov. Let’s make another lap around the base. I’m in the mood to stretch my legs.”

The massive Russian soldier bearing the dreaded skull and dagger emblem pushed off and started walking. McCree had learned to hate these people. And now their boss wanted him to join their ranks. No one was pleased with that arrangement. Letov was one of the few who had not encountered Jesse McCree on the battlefield. Only rumors. It meant this man would actually talk to him. “When are you not?”

Jesse fell in behind. “What’s Shotguns been up to?” He hadn’t seen the Blackwatch Commander in several weeks.

“A mission.”

“When is he returning.”

“When he is done.”

The cowboy rolled his eyes and readjusted his Stetson with a scowl. “Has anyone told you that you’re a great conversationalist.”

“And everyone agrees you talk too much.” Letov turned the corner with barely a glance to be sure the gunslinger was following. Jesse knew better. There were certain people he was allowed to meander the halls with. And if he was found without those escorts then his privileges would be taken away. Though now that he no longer had lessons with Captain Amari, that dropped one person off the list.

“When you’re tired of walking, I could always go for a game of poker.”

“No thanks. Rutledge said you robbed him blind.”

“Aw, come on. It was just his jacket. And belt.”

“And boots. And his wallet.”

“See, no money was involved. He even got the ten bucks I had in my pocket.”

“And who did you steal that off of?”

“Why would I have to steal? I won it off Sombra.” It had been a small thing. Wagering anything she had in her pocket that Genji tried to ask Dr. Ziegler out. The hacker handed it over, commenting on how the ninja had been politely turned down. 

The game of poker with Agent Rutledge had been a desperate ploy to alleviate some of his boredom within these stark white walls. He never expected the Texas born Blackwatch agent to actually agree to it. Another one of the few who only knew of McCree through rumors. And one of the four agents assigned as his escort. McDonald was an Englishman with the crudest sense of humor Jesse had found outside of Deadlock Gorge. Had they met outside of this predicament, McCree bet that they would have been great friends. To round out the entourage was a near silent man that hailed from Brazil. Costa hardly said anything. Jesse believed the only words out of the hirsute Brazilian had been ‘McCree’ and ‘idiot.’ In no particular order.

Amari and Reyes took turns. Or at least they had. Jesse hated to admit it but he was starting to miss the planning sessions with the Blackwatch Commander. There he had been allowed to speak freely. No one outright dismissed his ideas. And the ones that were stupid were turned down with excellent reasons that Jesse used to improve his next offering. Not even Boss Hopkins allowed that kind of discussion. But he still wasn’t going to join Blackwatch. He had principles.

McCree was about to annoy Letov with more questions regarding the workings of Overwatch when a familiar face streaked down the halls. “Sombra!”

“Can’t talk, Jesse! Important business!” The hacker vanished down another turn. In the maze of hallways, Jesse had no hope of catching up with her. But he did have a good idea as to where she was headed. The gunslinger started to jog towards Winston’s lab. Two steps behind the Russian Blackwatch agent lumbered after him.

“McCree! Whatever she’s doing, doesn’t involve you!” Letov hollered.

Screw that. First, this was the only excitement he had had in months. Second, if Sombra had important business then Jesse was going to be there to help or at least support his friend. He stumbled to a halt outside the scientist’s laboratory. McCree did not deal with the great genetic gorilla much, but he had a suspicion that the monkey didn’t like him much. And the open door revealed the room to be packed with people. White lab coats. Official Overwatch blues. Even a couple of suits from unknown origins. 

The Blackwatch agent came to a thudding stop beside him. “McCree, we’re not permitted here. Whatever this is, it’s for the Strike Commander and the scientists. We’ll find out when Commander Reyes thinks we need to know.”

“And miss this? Sorry, Letov. If Sombra is a part of it, I’m going to find out what’s going on.” Jesse tilted his hat back and peered in through the door left slightly ajar. It wouldn’t take much to slip in. Sombra was standing at a work station not too far away. Between the wall and the line of spectators was a glass box. All attention was on that box. A foreign hand on his shoulder startled Jesse from his thoughts. He cast a glare behind him. “You’d best be letting go if you want to keep that arm.” Letov matched his glare with deadly eyes of his own. The agent had a gun. Jesse however was confident enough that he could wrestle it away should he need to. “You sure you want to make a spectacle out here with all those bigwigs watching? I sure don’t mind.”

“It will get you locked in an actual cell.” Letov warned.

“At this point, it makes no difference. You either lock me up or let me go per the agreement. This purgatory is killer. I’m going to slip on in, behind Sombra, and take a look. Ain’t nothing in there I haven’t already seen. None of it that makes a lick of sense to me. And Goldilocks is smart enough not to cause a scene so long as I’m not causing trouble. ‘Sides, I got more eyes in there to watch me make a fool of myself than I do on that balcony. And you already know that I don’t care what kind of trouble I cause you. The one reason I had to stay is over.” Jesse grinned broadly as he watched Letov think through this little speech. The Russian pulled back his hand and crossed his arms. Of course the agent wouldn’t like this. But the reprimand he would get from Reyes was far better than dealing with the crowd inside the laboratory. 

Taking the non-action as assent, Jesse did exactly as he had explained. With all those eyes focused on that glass box, no one paid him much mind. He walked on in as if he had a right to be there. He took up position beside Sombra. Her computers glowed with numbers and graphs that made absolutely no sense to him. That was hardly new. The air of anticipation tingled the hair at the back of his neck. Jesse couldn’t differentiate that feeling from the sense that something was down right wrong. “Sombra?”

“Not now, Jesse,” the hacker did not even seem to noticed that the cowboy was not supposed to be here.

Rubbing the back of his neck, Jesse glanced across the crowd. Most looked eager for whatever was supposed to happen. His eyes did linger on Morrison. The Strike Commander had a frown dominating his clean shaven face. The soldier felt it too. That gut feeling that the peace was about to be disturbed. “Something ain’t right.”

“We’re manipulating time. Of course it doesn’t feel right.” Sombra dismissed his concern. Though she did run through her screens again. “Though… Hey, Winston.” The hacker called to the gorilla just two desks down. Sombra’s voice was the only loud one in the room. “The chronal accelerator is putting out some odd readings. Nothing extreme…” Everyone’s head turned towards them. Morrison’s frown turned into a frightful scowl when he noticed McCree standing behind the hacker. But nothing to change that now.

“The field is having difficulty stabilizing. We might need to adjust the frequencies.” The gorilla spoke to his screen. The mild mannered scientist held a tinge of curiosity and worry in his voice.

Beside him Sombra manipulated a few of her screens. Frowning she turned her attention to the glass box. “I can’t get it from here. I got to make the changes to the device itself.”

“Be careful.”

“Don’t worry. It’s just a few minor adjustments. I’ll be in and out before you know it.” Sombra slipped between the desks into the clear space between the crowd and the glass box. She didn’t seem to care that she was the center of everyone’s focus. Seemingly oblivious to everything around her, the hacker took a screwdriver and opened the strange circular device. McCree didn’t realize he had followed her to the edge of the crowd until he noticed that he had an unobstructed view as his friend knelt beside glowing circular device. The blue light pulsed with an unsettling pattern. Still the hacker disregarded all the red flags.

The charged air churned the place deep in his chest that told him to run. “Sombra…” McCree warned. He ran a hand over his left forearm. His hair was standing up on its roots. He hadn’t felt this in a long time. But no one else seemed concerned. Morrison now looked pissed rather than apprehensive. Everything in this room was telling gunslinger to beat a retreat. This was the time when a firefight turned against him and he had to cut his losses just to get out alive.

“Almost done.”

McCree had enough of this feeling. He was not going to let Sombra continue to ignore him. Messing with time or whatever she claimed to be doing was about to get her killed. A buzzer from Winston’s computer triggered the gunslinger into action. This wasn’t right. “Times up. We’re getting out of here.” Jesse grabbed the hacker’s arm and pulled her away from the small machine. That gut instinct spurred him forward. They were almost across that caution line, as if it would do any good, when hell finally broke loose. 

McCree’s first action was to sling his friend into the crowd of onlookers. They were still watching the two of them with mild confusion. None of them reacted until after the lithe hacker plowed into them. A searing white light blinded the gunslinger. His eyes squeezed shut against the intrusion. He didn’t feel the blast, but the air was forced out of his lungs with the violence of falling from a second story window. He had never wanted to repeat that again.

Gasping for breath, Jesse felt his hands failing to grip the smooth tile surface of the lab. He clenched his teeth and struggled to sit back on his heels. Beyond the white haze the lab looked to be perfect working order. So an explosion was out of the question. McCree shook his head violently. Not being able to catch his breath was giving him the worst headache. Almost as bad as using an automatic pistol to clear a room.

“Who are you?” A voice interrupted his misery. Bright. High pitched. Female. Then Jesse forced his eyes open again and saw a petite young woman with boyishly short hair. She wore what had to be a fighter pilot’s getup. The obnoxiously long scarf settled it.

McCree’s mouth worked. The air in his lungs did not cooperate. His company however did not appear affected. She stood before him, easy and confident. Trying again, gasps halting any lengthy statement. “A…. friend…”

“You work with Overwatch?” The pilot’s eyes narrowed. Clearly she didn’t see the white and gold circle on his ragged leather vest. Shaking his head was the best option. “Blackwatch?”

“Not… Really…” Jesse struggled to get those words out. He was slowly suffocating. He finally recognized the sensation. Drowning without water. Just enough air to keep going. Not enough to survive long. This was the worst. Hanzo was going to kill him. “But Overwatch… is out there…” He motioned behind him. Towards what looked like an empty lab. “Must be…. For you..”

“But… No one has been able to get anywhere close. I thought they gave up.” The woman started pacing. Jesse was too preoccupied with breathing to focus on her mutterings. Even as his field of vision narrowed, Jesse knew one thing. A moving target was harder to hit. If Sombra was searching for this pilot, then all that movement would hinder her progress. When the woman made her next pass, the gunslinger caught her ankle. “Huh? What’cha do that for?”

“Hold… Still…” Getting just enough oxygen to persist just a bit longer was murder. Jesse almost wished that he had blacked out by now. Passed out or died. Either had to be better than struggling for his next breath. Though his eyes were open, he started to see nothing. Blinking failed to clear his vision. His brain must have finally had enough. If he ever saw Sombra again, Jesse was going to kill her.

{}}}}{{{{}

Sombra realized she was flying through the air only after she thudded into the wall of onlookers. She was going to kill Jesse for manhandling her when nothing happened. Glaring at the space where the cowboy should have been, Sombra felt her heart go cold. Flicking as if on a poorly run projector was the image of Jesse McCree on his knees, gasping for breath. “Winston…? Talk to me!” The hacker kicked herself for not listening to her friend’s intuition. Rarely was he wrong. Scrambling from the tiled floor, Sombra ran towards her console. The numbers and code should give her an idea of what happened.

“When the frequencies harmonized the chronal accelerator emitted an unusual spike of energy. It engulfed both of you.” Winston answered. He sounded bewildered. Much of the room was muttering now. Sombra couldn’t spare the seconds to make sense of it. She focused on her screens and the gorilla’s voice. “You flew out of the burst of light.”

“The idiot cowboy threw me.” Sombra gritted her teeth. Her fingers trying to keep up with her brain in rewriting the code. Editing in realtime took all her concentration. “Can you track him?”

“Does he have a communicator?” Winston immediately asked. An electronic device would be easier to find than a biological one. One of the reasons they couldn’t grab Lena Oxton.

“No. But he has a phone.” Sombra separated a distant part of her mind to hack into Jesse’s phone. The same one she had given him a couple of months ago. She was thrilled with her forethought. Not the circumstance where it was needed.

“I’ll get a lock on it.” Winston took over that aspect of their search. Now they had to bring Jesse back as well as Lena. It was a personal effort now rather than professional curiosity. Sombra knew she had very few friends in this world. McCree had become one of her closest. For all their arguments, he always stuck his neck out for her. Now it might actually get him killed. “Sombra? I have him. It seems both McCree and Oxton are technically in this room. They are both out of sync with current time. If McCree stays where he is any longer then he too will become chronally disassociated.”

“I want good news, Winston…” Sombra did not stop her code editing. In a way it was good news. Their little experiment to bring the Slip Stream pilot home would also work on the cowboy.

The gorilla fell silent as both worked on the problem. Sombra saw the unexpected line of code just as Winston made the realization. “We can use him as an anchor. He has a direct tie to this time. If we pull him into our time as originally planned for Oxton, he can pull her with him. It would save trying to lock onto her separately.”

“Good luck telling him that.” She groused. Just because he had a phone did not mean their instructions would transfer nonlinear time. “There would have to be a physical connection. A way to compare his frequency with hers.”

“You mean like that?” Winston asked. Within the flickering images behind the cautionary tape, they now saw the petite pilot staring down at the cowboy in confusion. McCree had the best timing in the worst situations.

“Now, Winston!” Sombra frantically flew through her code, desperate for the chronal accelerator to handle the stabilization of two people. The massive scientist beside her had reservation written all over his face. Her call spurred him into action despite his worries. They already knew that if this didn’t work, they would loose a good human being. Now it would either save two or send both to wander aimlessly through time. Never really being able to affect it. Possibly never dying.

The white haze within the chronal accelerator’s range started to solidify. Winston had activated it fully. Returning two people was trying to overload a system designed for one. Sombra attempted to compensate using the lab computers to supplement the chronal accelerator’s processors. They could do this. She had to be confident in her and Winston’s design. And McCree wasn’t exactly disassociated yet. So it wouldn’t be a long term problem.

“Sombra, the power source is failing.”

“Damn it! We almost got it. Is it still attached to the containment chamber?” The hacker spared a glance to the glass box that held the initial attempt at solving Oxton’s disassociation. It had been Winston’s first experiment. Though ultimately a failure, it had done more than any other scientist or doctor before him.

“Yes. But the generator can’t power both.”

Growling Sombra started the transition of power. “Well obviously we don’t need both.” The containment chamber was also their only backup. Without it or the chronal accelerator then capturing Lena Oxton again would be just as much of a fluke as the first time. Sombra was not going to let that happen. “Come on… Just a little more….” The flickering images started to stabilize. Sombra was too busy coxing the code into forcing the machines to do what she wanted and missed the actual moment. 

The crowd gasp. Boots of emergency personnel surged forward. From the back the booming voice of the Strike Commander resounded over everything. “If you are not part of the medical team, back away to the far wall!” Sombra couldn’t see Jesse. She had to look to Winston for confirmation that they had succeeded. The great hairy head nodded somberly.

“Jesse…” Sombra darted between desks towards the small crowd of blue clad medics. She heard words that did not sit well in her stomach. Cyanotic. Rapid pulse. Ventilate. 

Strong arms caught her before she made it. She was about to give that immovable force a piece of her mind when she saw the deeply worried blue eyes of Jack Morrison. “Dr. Ziegler and her team are already on it. Take care of the chronal accelerator and make sure Oxton is fully present. Or leave it to Winston and wait in my office. No one will bother you there and you’ll be first to know if his condition changes.” The hacker’s eyes turned away from the Strike Commander to the abandoned cowboy hat. Kicked away and upturned. Its owner too far gone to be offended at its treatment. Sombra saved it from further destruction and clutched the brim tightly as if it would keep the gunslinger with them.

Ziegler’s confident voice rang over the chaos. “Get him hooked up to the bipap. If he doesn’t start responding, we’ll need to intubate.” More words that Sombra could not completely comprehend but churned her stomach. Medical technology had come a long way but the most advances were in physical wounds, not the body’s inability to cope.

Walking to the exit, Sombra noticed that Morrison followed her. She wasn’t sure if she should be grateful that he kept the inquisitive crowd at bay, or annoyed that he hovered. “Agent Letov,” the Strike Commander spoke to the man who escorted McCree on a regular basis. Sombra should have realized one of the four would be there. Jesse was not that adept at avoiding them. “Take her to my office. Then stay with McCree until I or Commander Reyes sends a replacement. I understand he could get violent as he recovers.” Sombra remembered that side of the gunslinger, and the nurses in the Shimada’s infirmary talked about it. So of course Genji would know.

Twisting the Stetson in her hands, Sombra wondered how exactly Hanzo would kill her once he found out about this.

}{{{}}}{

Curling up in the recliner the medical staff provided for her, Sombra settled in for a long night. Next to her was the bed containing Jesse. On the other side the machine that breathed for him. Stories said he had come back from the drowning quickly. This was more than a drowning. By all accounts the cowboy had been lost to the space between time for several minutes. The pilot was fully there. Jesse… Not so much. That space clearly did not have the oxygen the man needed to survive. They might as well have dropped him on the peak of Mt. Everest.

Sombra pressed the call button on her phone again. She knew it was morning in Japan. Only she no longer knew what Hanzo’s schedule was anymore. He could be in the middle of training. Or a business meeting. Legal or otherwise. This was the fifth time she had called. When it went to voice mail, she just hung up. She didn’t know what kind of message to leave. Finally she just sent some texts. *Hanzo. Pick up. Or Call. It’s about Jesse.* Hopefully that would get his attention faster. Particularly if he was in the middle of a situation where he couldn’t answer the phone.

Less than two minutes later her phone rang. “Hanzo?”

“What’s happened, Sombra?” Hanzo’s deep voice was clearly worried. More than she had ever heard him before. She had never had a family before. Nor had she thought she would befriend those two idiots. They had become her brothers. And she hated the sinking feeling that she was about to loose one, perhaps both.

“Jesse…” Sombra still did not know how to explain. Even as she replayed the event in her head for the thousandth time. “It’s not really an accident. He did try to warn us… We were doing an experiment to try and get an Overwatch test pilot back. I had gone in to fix the machine. He pulled me out just as the thing went haywire.” The hacker purposefully used layman’s terms for what they were doing. Doing any different would confuse the main point of the story. “Jesse got stuck… without enough oxygen. And he’s recovering now… just unconscious with a machine helping him breathe.”

 _“That damn idiot.”_ Hanzo only dropped into his native tongue while talking to her or Jesse when he was absolutely livid at a situation. He had every right to be. And now he couldn’t help either one. _“Are you alright, Sombra?”_

The question caught her off guard. Why wouldn’t Hanzo ask after her? “Fine. I guess. Just worried.”

“When it comes to Jesse, we’ll always be worried. He has a very good track record of getting hurt.” Hanzo sounded so calm. Almost businesslike. But this was also the man who had cast out his own brother injured by his own hand. A man who had watched his cousins and uncles die on the battlefield. Death was routine for him. No matter how much it hurt each and every time. Learning about McCree’s medical condition only made the news more personal, not more devastating.

Sombra curled further around the phone, letting the beeping machine fill in the silence. “Sorry.”

“Why? It sounds like you were in danger. Jesse would have done anything to keep you safe. He’s done it before.”

“But before didn’t nearly get him killed.”

“And next time will be worse.”

“Why did you have to say that?” Sombra growled. She did not want to think about Jesse putting himself into harms way.

The reluctance and weariness from the ninja answered that he hated the thought. “Because there will be. There will come a time when one of us is severely injured. It is inevitable in our line of work. I’d rather plan for it than wait.” Another long pause of silence as the two of them adjusted to the idea. Hanzo likely wanted to see Jesse with his own eyes, but was too proud to ask. Sombra for once in her life not wanting to share another’s misfortune through images. When Hanzo spoke again, the hacker startled. She had almost though the man had hung up on her. “The pilot? The one you were trying to help. How is he?”

“She’s doing well. Last I checked in on her and Winston.”

“Then congratulations are in order.”

“You say that like nothing else happened.”

“Nothing permanent has happened. And if we continue to be lucky, nothing will.”

“Hanzo?” Sombra shifted in the recliner to sit up properly. This conversation was about to get even more complicated. “I have a confession to make…”

“You know your secrets are safe with me.”

“Yeah… I just don’t know how you’ll react to this one.” Sombra built up her courage. She would admit to feeling vulnerable which contributed to why she was confessing in the first place. “I kind of like it here. The project we just finished. It was everything I didn’t know I was missing. Yeah, snooping and blackmailing people is fun, but this was new stuff. Untested, newly invented. I can’t believe I enjoyed it as much as I did. I now have the knowledge to dream up more stuff. And do you know how hard it is to find someone to converse with. On my level?”

The deep amused chuckle was not what the hacker expected to hear over the phone’s speaker. “I’m glad. Though on behalf of Jesse, I feel obligated to ask: ‘What about us?’ But I knew you would stay there. And it must be nice to finally feel like you’ve found a place where you belong.”

Sombra frowned. This was not how she expected the conversation to go. “Somehow I thought you’d be more broken up about it.”

The yakuza boss in training maintained the calm and collected voice he had perfected over the years. “Sombra, they will have opportunities for you that we could never offer. I’m just glad you didn’t sell us out completely.”

“Ha! Don’t think that it didn’t cross my mind. But I like you guys. Tendency to be idiots aside, you’re not so bad.”

“With compliments like those, it’s a wonder how we maintained relations.” Hanzo’s dry humor had the hacker cracking a grin. “Just keep in contact. And you know you are always welcomed in Hanamura. Even if you are now wearing a Blackwatch skull.”

“Very funny.” Sombra sneered at the voice on the other end of the line. “Actually I’m more worried about Jesse’s reaction.”

“He’s not going to like it. But he’s not going to shut you out. When he finds his place, he’ll understand your sentiments.”

“What about your place?” Sombra felt the need to ask. It would not change anything. But if each of them were searching for a sense of belonging that they hadn’t had within their gangs, what would the heir to the Shimada Clan be after.

For a moment, the little Mexican didn’t think the archer would answer. Then a thoughtful voice filled her ears. “For now I am where I must be. However I cannot shake the sense that I could be doing so much more.”

She couldn’t help but tease. “The castle walls have you trapped, don’t they.”

“I have only left the confines of the castle for preplanned business meetings within the company of the _wakaishou._ I confess, it is slowly driving me insane.”

“Alright, I promise to contact you more often to breakup the dull drums. And I’ll make sure Jesse does too. While he’s here.” Sombra relaxed against the seat cushions.

“Be sure you do. And please call me the moment Jesse wakes up. And have him call the moment he feels well enough. It appears Amari is finished training him and if Morrison does not make good on his end of the deal, then we will have to find a way to extract him.” It was a legitimate concern. Hanzo wasn’t here and did not see the dynamic interactions between the commanders and McCree.

“Well, Morrison hasn’t broken any of his promises yet. And Jesse is probably going to be stuck here until Angela releases him this time. I’ll keep you up to date. Talk you later then.”

“Thank you for calling. Keep an eye on him. And get some sleep. Bye, Sombra.” Hanzo hung up first. Hesitation clear in his voice. As much as he would rather be sitting at Jesse’s beside, the ninja had other more pressing issues to attend to. The cowboy was recovering. That was solace enough. Sombra herself was exhausted. Apprehension kept her awake.

When the door opened, Sombra expected to see one of the nurses coming to check on Jesse and the machine. She did not expect the glowing blue circle of the chronal accelerator and the tiny woman who wore it. “Uh… sorry… I couldn’t sleep. I… I could come back in the morning…” From what little Sombra knew of the test pilot, awkward apologies were not expected.

“Nah… I can’t sleep either.” Rising from the recliner where she just couldn’t get comfortable, the hacker stuck out her right hand. “I realize we haven’t been officially introduced. I’m Sombra.”

“Lena Oxton. But call me Lena.” The pilot smiled brightly and shook hands firmly. With the uncertainty of the encounter over, the British woman treated Sombra like a close friend. “I remember your faces. Yours and Winstons. I owe you a great deal of thanks for helping me out.”

“No sweat. It was Winston’s design. I just coerced my way on board because I was curious about the tech.” Sombra shrugged. No sense in hiding her true interest. “But I am glad you’re not stuck anymore.”

“Yeah…” Lena glanced over Sombra’s shoulder. “I owe him too. It sounds like if he hadn’t held me still for those few seconds Winston would not have managed to anchor me to this time.”

“Jesse McCree.” Sombra offered. The test pilot had come to visit a stranger. That said a lot about her character. Sombra probably would not have visited Lena outside of their technology checkups. “He’s one of the good guys, despite how much he pretends otherwise.”

“I’d like to meet him when he wakes up.” Lena stepped over to the bedside table and let her fingers brush the bouquets of yellow lilies and orange roses. Ana Amari had sent one vase. Angela Ziegler had ordered another. It was strange to think that these Overwatch people actually wanted McCree to get well. Sombra had walked in on Agent Costa setting down a shot glass from Rio de Janeiro and a card. The man had nodded towards her and took Letov’s spot by the nurses station should McCree cause problems. 

Hidden behind these get-well gifts and cards was the black Stetson. Scratched and dented from years of wear. The woven leather tassel on the hatband creased ragged with the tan interior showing through. The one he had bought in Dorado. The one Sombra first met the biker in. Lena reached out and for a moment the hacker worried the woman would pick it up. Instead she simply traced the brim and sighed. Lena spoke more to the hat than to Sombra. “I bet he has quite the story to tell.”

“If you start asking, he won’t shut up.” Sombra warned. There were times when that was exactly what they needed. A light hearted, never ending story to fill the silence. Jesse was good at those.

Lena chuckled. “Consider me warned if I ever make that mistake.” Turning the pilot lost her smile. Taking on a more pensive stance that did not suit her, Lena asked a question that stunned Sombra. “I know this is awkward… But can I stay here with you? Winston has already gone to bed. And he’s sweet and all, but you two are the only humans I know… Sort of…” 

The more Sombra thought about the request the more it made sense. She knew exactly how long the pilot had been out of sync with the rest of the world. Anyone would miss human contact after that. Lena had already mentioned knowing Sombra’s face from the months of testing. Jesse had been her first human touch since the accident. Now that she was thrust back into the correct timeline, everything was strange, unfamiliar. Of course she would want to cling to anything recognizable. It’s what people did when times got tough. “Sure. I’ll ask the nurses if we can bring in another chair. Doubt either of us could sleep tonight anyway.” Sombra was starting to like the test pilot. There wasn’t much to go on for building a friendship. But the young woman was honest. A trait Sombra did not encounter often.

{}}}}{{{{}

The first conscious thought Jesse had was refusing a stranger’s voice telling him to keep the mask on. She won the battle with mask. He spent the next couple of hours deciding that he hated hospitals as the nurses and Dr. Ziegler went around messing with the machine and making sure he was breathing fine. He also wondered where Sombra was. Jesse also had plenty of time alone in his room to contemplate how stupid he had been in trying to get the hacker to safety. And to speculate on what happened. Ultimately they succeeded in getting him out of that strange place.

By the time Sombra showed her face, Jesse was off the bulky mask and on thin plastic nasal prongs delivering oxygen. He remembered them from when the Shimada doctor thought he would develop pneumonia. He did not want to get scolded by the medical staff by taking them off.

“You’re finally awake,” the hacker announced the moment she walked in. That was rather obvious so Jesse didn’t respond. He scowled at her instead. Sombra was immune anyway. “I’ve already told Hanzo, so you supposed to call him when you have energy to talk. You look like you’re feeling better, so now’s the time to open all your cards.” Jesse had seen the flowers but had not wanted to expend the energy to reach the table for the rest. Sombra did the work for him. She swiveled the table into view and dropped a shot glass and card into his lap. “You should start with this one.”

“You’re a pain in the ass, you know that.” Jesse sighed and studied the glass. The massive Jesus statue of Rio de Janeiro etched on one side and the city’s name on the other. The card itself was standard for a get well message. There was a personal note that stunned him. *There is a bottle waiting. — Costa.* His eyes went from the card to Sombra in disbelief. “I didn’t even think the guy liked me. Hell, most of Blackwatch doesn’t like me.”

“I think you’d be surprised. There are a few that actually like you. And those that don’t usually respect your skill. There are still those that can’t stand you, but what else is new.” Sombra dropped onto the bed next to his legs. “Most of them agree they would rather you be on their side.”

“I’ve figured that much.”

“Oh, and Lena wants to meet you.”

“Who?”

“The pilot we helped that got you into this mess.”

“I recall that it was you who got me into this mess.”

“Only because you showed up where you didn’t belong. But we’re not going to argue about that.” Sombra put another card into his hands and continued talking. “Genji would be here, but he has some sort of mandatory mission briefing to attend. He’ll be by as soon as its done.”

Genji had become the responsible one for a change. Ever since the Blackwatch Commander deemed Sombra safe to operate within base, the green haired ninja went off to do whatever it was an Overwatch agent did. Jesse had seen far less of the younger Shimada brother than he had liked. Both of his friends had obligations now. Whereas Jesse still relied on someone else’s decisions for his next job. He was still just a hired gun. But there was more that he could do than aim a revolver and shoot. He had shown it during several of the oddball jobs Hanzo had started. And here, Reyes was trying to put it to use.

It certainly gave him a new perspective on the whole of Blackwatch.

Sombra continued to chat and push cards in his direction. Jesse allowed the distraction. It was probably just as much for her as for him. Genji joined them for dinner. The conversation remained light. The gunslinger did not put much effort into it. His friends seemed to understand and did not push. They chalked it up to him still recovering when in reality Jesse’s mind was on that shot glass and the promise of a bottle.


	20. Chains that Bind

**Chapter Twenty: Chains that Bind**

That bottle turned into an unexpected game of poker. Filled with laughter and stories. McCree’s keepers willingly shared their favorite alcohols and their company. The only betting was in the form of the most embarrassing of stories of their dealings with the infamous Blackwatch Commander. It was one of the few things the five men had in common.

He learned about Costa’s altercation with Reyes that brought the Brazilian into Blackwatch. The man had lost a wrestling match after trying to steal one of the God A.I. programs. McDonald had actually gone drinking with the Blackwatch Commander without knowing who the man was. Thinking the soldier was just another hard on his luck mercenary, the Brit had offered him a job in a political assassination. Reyes’s force of personality brought McDonald and his team into a different organization.

Rutledge spoke instead of encountering the Strike Commander out of uniform. Neither had known the other was part of Overwatch. What began as a friendly conversation about Westerns turned into a violent argument. At least two punches were thrown before Reyes interrupted, clapping them both on the back and laughing. Letov told of a mission going sideways and how the Blackwatch Commander stepped in only for them both to hightail it out of the city. Mission a technical success yet in order to preserve any amount of secrecy they had to run.

All these stories made the Blackwatch Commander more human. They were told fondly. Not about a superior officer, but about a good friend. Jesse also discovered that he had more in common with his keepers than he would have believed. And apparently the rumors of his skills weren’t enough to deter these people. It sounded as though half of Blackwatch were at one time or another criminals. That wasn’t new information. But they did reveal the desire to see McCree’s skills first hand. So far none of his keepers had witnessed the lessons from Amari. Jesse was always willing to show off, but he had to explain how the Strike Commander hadn’t let him back on the gun range since Amari deem their lessons over.

Letov poured another shot of Polish vodka for them all. It was the hands down favorite among the Irish whiskey, Mexican mezcal and Tennessee moonshine. Jesse enjoyed them all. Letov made the decision to seek out permission to get McCree’s gun from lockup. “Well, we’ll have to get that changed. I’m sure it won’t take much to get Reyes to see reason.”

It was as if their night of storytelling had summoned the man. A six pack of beer clanked onto the table. The hand leaving the case belonged to one Gabriel Reyes. The bane of McCree’s existence. “Not happening. And I’m not dumb enough to go over the Strike Commander’s head inside Headquarters.”

“Who invited Shotguns?” McCree scowled, jerking his thumb at the enhanced soldier. Here he had been enjoying the night.

McDonald shrugged and downed his shot. “I just told him you were out of the infirmary. He can usually figure out the rest.”

Reyes pulled up a chair to Jesse’s left and focused his attention on the can of beer. “Heard about what you did.” The Commander referred to the incident involving the chronal accelerator. Jesse was still embarrassed about that. “It was reckless and stupid. But it saved two good people in the end. Remarkably selfless of you.”

“Not what I was going for.”

“No. But it worked out that way. Jack seemed to think you knew something was about to go wrong.” Reyes eyed him over the beer. It was as though the man dared him to deny it.

McCree shrugged and downed his shot of vodka. He needed the whole bottle now. “Nothing definitive. Always just a sense that shit is about to hit the fan. Goldilocks felt it too. If his expression was anything to go by. He probably would have shut the project down if he didn’t believe in Winston.”

“You’re right. He almost did shut it down for the very reason that tampering with time risked everyone in Headquarters.” Reyes revealed news even the four Blackwatch agents had not known. They stared in shock. “Winston and Sombra convinced him they could contain any fall out. Something to do with the size of the power unit. Since you were the only casualty, I’d say the experiment succeeded.”

McCree started to search for another bottle. The mezcal was closest. Its flavor too complicated for him to enjoy right then. He was both too drunk and too pissed to care. Shame really. It was a very good bottle. He wondered if Costa would share this label once they were all sober. Speaking mostly to the shot glass, Jesse replied sourly. “Don’t get too choked up about it.”

“That’s why you’re here, right? To celebrate not dying?” Reyes was right. He paused with the beer can hovering mid chest, as if expecting the need to continue. The entire table fell into tense silence. Apparently they had all misread Jesse’s strange relationship with the Blackwatch Commander. Though the biker had joined them on several mission briefings, he was still technically a prisoner. It was the one thing Jesse never forgot. 

But McCree also had to hand it to the team, they were better at not treating him like a threat than the Shimada foot soldiers. The four men, who had invited him to a poker game the moment Dr. Ziegler cleared him, had gone through every effort to allow him a semblance freedom. Short of actually leaving the base, McCree had the same run of the place as them. Even Reyes tried. Strange as it was. McCree knew the commander wanted his sharpshooting skills as part of Blackwatch. The man never hid that fact. 

Just as Jesse had never pretended to be interested. 

Yet here they all were. Mostly companionable around a table laden with cards and drinks. McCree would be lying if he claimed to despise these men. Even Reyes. Despite their complicated history, the older man had tried to be friendly. The biker was going to miss poking fun at old Shotguns once he finally left. With a small snort of amusement, Jesse raised his glass. He hated to admit it, but Reyes was right. “Cheers to that.”

The tension broke with soft chuckles and toasts. It might have started off as a celebration of Jesse’s recovery, but it turned into a celebration of life in general. Anyone who faced death as often as them only needed the smallest excuse to drink. Rutledge was the one to eye the case of beer with a critical eye. “Don’t you know better than to bring that piss to a poker game, Gabriel?” The familiarity stunned McCree for a moment. Who called their boss by their first name?

Reyes simply shrugged and continued to sip at his can. “Unlike you lot I have actual work in the morning.” The table erupted with laughter. Apparently being McCree’s keeper had become a joke job among Blackwatch agents. The gunslinger had learned that since he seldom caused trouble more agents were interested in the position. Particularly as more became familiar with McCree through those mission briefings. Jesse should be flattered. Instead he felt like a pushover. With Sombra settled, all Jesse could think of was returning to Hanamura and the crazy life he had started to build there.

{}}}}{{{{}

The Strike Commander’s work was never done. And it threatened to keep him hold up in an office day in and day out. Thankfully he had the world’s most competent second-in-command, Captain Ana Amari. They conducted most of their meetings walking through the halls of Headquarters. It gave him an opportunity to survey the men and women dedicated to Overwatch and their mission of peace. And a chance to stretch his legs.

On passing the training facility, Morrison noticed a strange sight. Gabe was dressed down in combat fatigues, squaring off against a similarly dressed Jesse McCree. How had his friend convince the obstinate biker to agree to hand to hand combat? It just proved that Reyes could talk anyone into anything. Jack paused at the doorway to watch. Ana chuckling beside him.

“You’ve got to hand it to Gabriel. He might get the kid onboard after all.” Ana leaned against the wall as they watched the odd sparring partners go at it. McCree’s strikes were straightforward and strong. Reyes parried and dodged easily. It was clear who had the advantage. 

As the spar progressed, Jack heard words of education. “Too fast.” “Obvious.” “Don’t lead with your fist. You want the weight of your body behind it.” Jack could only chuckle as he listened. He hadn’t heard these words since basic training. McCree glowered each and every time his blows were avoided. “Stop getting angry, McCree. It’s only going to make you sloppy.” Suddenly Reyes took the biker down with sudden strike to the chest and grapple to the mats.

“Good show!” Oxton chirp form the sidelines. Two women occupied the benches. One in the blue uniform of an Overwatch cadet. The other in the dark uniform of Blackwatch. The pair seemed inseparable since the chronal accelerator incident. Jack never thought two completely different people could hit it off so well. But then shared stress had brought stranger people together.

“Try not to fall for that next time.” Sombra goaded from beside the newest recruit. Her focus was on her ever present purple screens. Jack could not identify her current project. He really should not have been surprised to see those two here. They were part of the gang that never seemed to separate. Glancing around the sparring field, the Strike Commander found the forth member of the odd group facing off against a more nimble opponent. Genji Shimada enjoyed showing off his prowess as a ninja. 

McCree brushed himself off and scowled at the women. “Why are you here anyway?”

“Would you believe moral support?” Sombra gave a half smile, never once glancing up.

The test pilot was more honest. “Frankly speaking, luv, it’s hilarious to watch.” They must have been at it for some time. Now that the young man stood still, beads of sweat accumulated along his hairline.

“Well, it’s your turn.” McCree stretched, running a hand through the shaggy beard he insisted on keeping. It was unclear who he was referring to, though neither agent budged.

“Not so fast, kid.” Gabriel had other ideas. Jack had stayed for too long and now his friend noticed. “Hey, Jack. Perfect timing. We need a practice dummy.”

“And I’m needed back at the office.” The Strike Commander tried to excuse himself. The last thing he needed was to be caught sparring among the recruits.

“Nonsense, Jack.” Not even Ana would spare him. “We’ve concluded all the important tasks. You have about an hour before Director Petras makes his ‘surprise’ mid morning call. You know Gabriel teaches better if he’s not the one actively part of the fight.”

“Ah, hell no!” McCree groaned. He had made it to the sidelines for a drink.

Sombra grinned and pushed at the gunslinger’s shoulder. “Go on, Jesse. You’ve never backed down from a challenge before. You’re just scared of losing.”

“Of course I’m gonna loose. He’s a goddamn super soldier.”

“The correct term is Enhanced Soldier.” Morrison interrupted while removing his overcoat. Perhaps Ana was right. He could spare an hour and help educated this punk. He also owed the kid for the obnoxious nickname that started to crop up around base.

“No offense, Goldilocks, but I really don’t see a difference,” McCree scowled and tossed his water bottle back to the bench. Even if Jack had not had many face to face encounters with this biker, he could see an underlying hatred within the gunslinger’s eyes. Whether that was for the Strike Commander in particular or Overwatch as a general whole, Jack would bear the brunt of it. It seemed that dislike was enough to get him to square off against the Enhanced Soldier. 

Gabriel stepped between them, though spoke to the biker. “The two of you fight much the same. Straight forward and predictable.” Jack huffed in annoyance at the description. McCree protested but the Blackwatch Commander talked over the disgruntled ‘hey.’ “If you can keep up with him, then you might stand a chance at learning how to stand your ground against me.”

“And why would that be important.” McCree was never without a complaint.

“For starters you might last more than one blow next time.” Gabriel never did know how to pull his punches. Those two encounters had left McCree unconscious after the first strike. The biker scowled at the reference, but he did take his place on the mats.

It was commendable that the young man took up the challenge of sparring with an elite soldier. It said much about the man’s character. For a murderer from the American Southwest, the sharpshooter had done remarkably selfish acts in his short time on the base. And proved astounding loyalty to his friends. He had put up with a great deal of hate from the Blackwatch agents without a word. But the moment anyone spoke against Sombra, the biker defended her right to be part of the peacekeeping organization. Early on McCree almost got into fist fights as a result. Until Sombra’s sharp words embarrassed both parties. Now he reluctantly stood his ground in preparation to loose repeatedly. Either in an effort to prove he too belonged or as a test to prove his metal. Being from an outlaw motorcycle gang, the man must be used to proving his courage.

Morrison was curious about their prisoner turned guest. The more he learned from Gabe, the more he wondered how the biker managed to remain under the radar for so long. Sparring against the young man would be a revelation. How a man attacked told much about him. If McCree was as straight forward as Gabriel claimed, then this might be entertaining after all.

The young man’s stance was basic. Untrained barroom brawl style. No wonder Gabe was able to take him out in one clean blow. Self taught fighters never lasted long against seasoned soldiers. Now would be no exception. McCree lunged forward with a blatant right handed punch. The Strike Commander deflected it with ease. It made him wonder how this young man had survived for so long. But then if he used a revolver for most of his fights, why learn hand to hand combat.

After a few rounds of straight forward attacks and listening to Gabriel chastise McCree for being obvious, Jack decided to change it up. He put the biker on the defensive. Calls of encouragement came from the lady agents on the sidelines. Others from the training floor as they started to pay attention to their fight. Jack held back of course. Though he still sent McCree to the mats at the end of every encounter. The young man was determined. Jack would give him that. He saw the potential Gabriel must see to even consider keeping the criminal around. The gunslinger also learned quickly. Jack wasn’t able to use the same sequence of strikes twice.

It lasted until Jack stuck the biker into a headlock. Against normal men, breaking free was next to impossible. Against enhanced soldiers? McCree was better off tapping out and accepting defeat. Only the biker didn’t. “Don’t take it too hard. Most of the men out there don’t have the balls to stand against Gabe, much less me.”

“Afraid of a uniform?”

“Something like that. We already know you’re out classed. No shame in giving up.”

“I don’t give up.” McCree spoke through gritted teeth. Jack knew the tide was about to turn, only he could not predict the gunslinger’s next move. The biker dropped suddenly and got a painful grip at the pressure point on Jack’s right wrist.

Next thing the Strike Commander knew he was flat on his back staring up at Reyes demanding to know what McCree had done. The biker had played dirty. Anyone could have told him that. And in a brawl it worked in the young man’s favor. Without a doubt McCree belonged in Blackwatch. The only question was how to get him to join. “No harm done,” Jack brushed himself off but gave the young man from Deadlock Gorge a hard glare. “Just some dented pride. On both sides. I expect you in my office in two hours, Mr. McCree.”

Morrison had some planning to do.

{}}}}{{{{}

Following the brief discussion between the Strike Commander and the Deadlock biker, Reyes wondered about the future of acquiring McCree into Blackwatch. All previous plans had failed spectacularly. Jack was right though. It was not going to happen this time either. Gabriel was currently on a search for the kid. Not that there were many places left for the gunslinger to wander. Morrison had curtailed that freedom immediately after the sparring session.

“Come on, kid. We’re moving out.” Reyes called out as he walked passed the recreation room. McCree sat on the floor, back against the couch, tossing playing cards into his upturned hat out in the middle of the floor. Rutledge occupied a corner reading from a holographic display. Clearly the biker was moping about the new rules from the Strike Commander.

“No can do, Shotguns. My gun is permanently holstered thanks to orders from Goldilocks. Seeing how I’m supposed to be a prisoner and all.” The gunslinger continued to flick the cards. All of them landed in the black Stetson. Reyes sent the revolver and leather holster flying across the room into McCree’s lap. “Hey! Show some respect!”

“Get off your ass, kid, and get moving.” The Blackwatch commander did not stay and watch the cowboy scramble. Rutledge was slower and more methodical about cleaning up his recreational activities.

McCree didn’t take long and soon his cowboy boots were stomping next to Reyes’s military boots. “So? Why the sudden change in heart?”

“Morrison wants you off his property and Amari has cleared you to leave. What better way than a good old-fashioned prison break to make it official?” Gabriel chuckled at McCree’s grin. Broad enough to reach into the next country.

“What’s in it for you?”

“Got a lead on some Talon operatives. Going to take them out or at least find out why they’re in Monaco.” This one small opportunity lit up the kid’s face. Gabriel understood the feeling. Anything for a chance to see combat again. Though the opportunity to leave the facility must be the main contributor to the gunslinger’s excitement.

“Wait. You’re taking me to France?”

“That’s where Monaco is.” Reyes saw disbelief on the young man’s face. Surely McCree was accustomed to flying to far flung places by now. “To be accurate, we’re joining a team already there.” It had been a few days since the spar with the Strike Commander. Then the subsequent curtailments of McCree’s previous freedoms. Some would think it retaliation for the spectacular throw out of a headlock. Reyes knew it was meant to limit the biker’s focus to the only option for distraction. This trip. 

As the gunslinger’s information and usefulness evaporated, so did the reasons for keeping him away from the authorities wanting to lock him up for all the crimes they attributed to him. And Morrison had a deal to uphold. The promise made in that interrogation room was a million miles in the past now. But if Overwatch wanted any cooperation from the Shimada Clan regarding information on Talon, that bargain had to be met. That meant letting McCree go. It killed Reyes to relinquish such talent. He had done everything within his power to show that biker the potential within. But he couldn’t force the young man to acknowledge it or even act on it. With any luck returning to the strict environment of the Shimada Castle would open McCree’s eyes to how stuck he was.

“And that gun’s not loaded,” Gabriel mentioned as they entered the hanger. The transport was loaded for their trip. Get in, get his team out, and leave McCree behind. Shimada could do what he wanted from there.

“Come on! You really think I’m gonna shoot up the place after all this time?”

“I considered the possibility. Now we’ve got the gear you will need on the Orca.” Reyes started to brief McCree as they strapped in for the flight from Switzerland to the south coast of France. The biker listened attentively. Under that black cowboy hat, Gabriel could see the man’s brow narrowing in thought. He did not say anything about the extraction plan. The Blackwatch Commander waited. For the few months they had the dubious pleasure of hosting the gunslinger, Reyes knew McCree would speak up if he saw flaws. It had been one thing the biker became good at.

Only the drop into Monaco was not as smooth nor as silent as Reyes could have hoped. “Commander, the ground team is reporting heavy fire.” The pilot announced the bad news.

“Can they get to the extraction point?” Reyes called up to the cockpit. 

“That’s a negative, sir.”

Grabbing a set of headphones, Reyes dialed into the ground team’s frequency. “Reyes here. What’s the situation.”

“We’re pinned down behind the Hotel Royale Casino.” Gunfire echoed through the feed. “Ames is down. Critical wound to the thigh. Talon forces thinest towards the alley.”

Quickly the Blackwatch Commander pulled up the map of the city on the holo projector. Isolating the hotel, Reyes started to plan how to get his team out. This was no longer a simple get in get out type of mission. He’ll figure out why Talon got the jump on Johnson’s team after they came back alive. “How close can we get?” McCree stood at Gabriel’s right shoulder intently staring at the map. His mind must be figuring out the puzzle as well.

“What are you thinking?”

“We get in close enough to cause a distraction for Talon’s goons. They don’t usually have anti aircraft missiles. We fly in, drop us off so we can open up a path to the extraction point three blocks away. The Orca team can keep the point clear for our arrival.”

“Distraction. That’s your plan.”

“Hey. It worked on you guys. More than once. And it works on them. They’re a predictable para-military force. They have to know you’re coming. But their attention will still be pulled to either the big airship hovering over the casino or a few bullets to their backsides. Either way, it should be enough for your team to retreat. Hell, get me some bullets and I’ll open the exit route.” McCree’s hard gaze spoke of his determination. This was what Reyes had come to expect from inviting the backroads biker into the mission briefings. But would the man follow through.

Overall it wasn’t a bad plan. Not too far from what Gabriel had decided to do in the short space of time between getting the news and pulling up the map. Holding McCree’s hooded gaze with his own critical stare threatened to destabilize the tenuous peace between them.“Ivan, get his ammo. Looks like we’re on the same side today.”

“Don’t flatter yourself, Shotguns. This is the first time I’ve been able to shoot in ages. Starting to feel a bit rusty.” McCree quickly loaded his weapon. With a few extra spins and flourishes he holstered the revolver and strapped the case of speed loader prepared bullets to his belt. The gaudy skull and wings of Deadlock Rebels on full display. There would be no taking the outlaw out of this biker.

“Then here’s hoping that Talon makes better targets than Blackwatch.” The dark chuckle Gabriel received did nothing to ease his fears. Focusing back on the ground team, Gabriel gave them direction via the radio. “Johnson. We’re coming in. Keep your heads down and get Ames as stable as you can. Alright folks, we’re dropping down in five.” The team scrambled for their gear and assumed positions at the bay doors. The Commander of Blackwatch eyed the gunslinger in the black Stetson. “Ever dropped from a hovercraft before?”

“First time for everything.” McCree ensured his revolver was secure. He eyed the other agents lining up along shuttle’s walls. Their harnesses clipped to the reels of cord to facilitate their descent. There was no fear in the man’s gaze. Only a hint of hesitation as the bay doors opened to reveal the height from which they were to drop.

“It’s the landing you have to worry about.” Reyes offered as he joined the line. His twin shotguns secured to his back and belt filled with cartridges. Entering into battle unprepared was the way to guarantee death. Not even Gabriel would wish failure on his worst enemy when jumping from a plane. “Keep your knees soft. And unclip as soon as you touch the ground. Other than that, it’s just like the rappelling course that kicked your butt.”

“Easy for you to say.” McCree grumbled and took his place in the line. He and Reyes would be the last to reach the ground. It was to keep the kid as safe as possible during an unauthorized mission. The Blackwatch Commander did wonder how Shimada planned on extracting the cowboy. This would be a huge mess to explain to Morrison if they failed. The Strike Commander already had the regulatory agency breathing down his neck about why their involuntary guest was not integrated into Blackwatch or restrained.

The two lines of agents filed out of the Orca and the first group was already engaging in the Talon soldiers. The first four were the distraction. Reyes and the remaining four, gunslinger in tow, would circle around until they could meet up with the original team. Hitting the cement hard, Gabriel eyed the kid. McCree had hit hard enough for his knees to buckle. Still he had the presence of mind to unclip from the ropes. Rappelling was not the gunslinger’s strong suit. But no injuries that Reyes could identify.

“You survive?” Gabriel called over his shoulder as he trotted after his team.

“Piece of cake.” McCree tried to follow but his run turned into a shuffle until he got his knees sorted out. Impressively the gunslinger kept up with Blackwatch Agents. Reyes did not have the resources to babysit the gunslinger. And the biker had shown he was quite capable. The paving stones crunched under their boots. “Hold up!” McCree called from the rear. “Not this way. Line of sight to a sniper” All eyes in the alley flew to the roofline seeking the Talon sniper. 

“How?” Reyes took refuge next to the building. He did not see what had the cowboy concerned. 

“Didn’t they tell you? I got great eyesight.” That statement included much more than the obvious. The kid’s aim was masterful but there was still one skill Gabriel had yet to see. The one that had taken out most of his strike team into Deadlock Gorge. Frustratingly the gunslinger feigned ignorance whenever asked about the technique. 

“Great. Now back up, I got him.” Gonzalez had always been unimpressed with the kid from Deadlock. Skeptical about the stories of his aim. The man was an excellent sniper. Not in the same league as Amari, but Gabriel couldn’t ask her to join every single mission that needed a sniper. He would if his friend had the time and no child of her own. Carlos Gonzalez set up his rifle smoothly and efficiently. Never once loosing sight of the sniper. Reyes still didn’t see what they were talking about on that far roofline. That was why he had a team. So long as Gonzalez saw the target, then the Blackwatch Commander had no worries. A high powered round exploded from the sniper rifle. Seconds later Carlos was packing up. “She was in the fifth story window. Have to say, they’re getting creative.”

“Then move out,” Gabriel motioned for his team to continue on their path.

“Have fun, Shotguns,” McCree hung back. The commander had the words to chew out the gunslinger in his mouth just as the hum of a hovercraft overcame the surrounding gunfire. “Looks like my ride’s here.” Sure enough the unmarked craft was similar to the Shimada transports. A rung ladder cascaded from the bay door and the gunslinger trotted to his escape. Shimada’s men even provided cover fire. Granted both sides of the story would claim to be aiming for each other, the truth was that Talon remained the true targets. 

“McCree! Get back here!” A token effort to keep their captive. Blackwatch got a wave with the revolver in return. Strapped to the rung ladder, the gunslinger surveyed the field from his new vantage point. Shimada’s team would not stay long. And the cowboy was making himself an prominent target high in the air with only basic body armor over his chest. But there was this glare under the brim of that black Stetson. One the Blackwatch Commander hoped never to see as his enemy. Six shots echoed through the buildings. Four Talon soldiers within Gabriel’s range of vision collapsed. Two more must be dead somewhere else. “How did he do it?” The one technique Reyes needed to see and it was from such a distance that he had no chance of fully understanding.

“Beats me, boss,” Gonzalez shrugged. Rifle relaxed against his shoulder. “But I do know he hit the vital shots on all of them. Instant kills. If that’s the talent you tried to recruit, then I don’t want to be on his bad side.” Another convert to the thought that McCree was better an ally than an enemy. Reyes needed to find a way to yank that man away from Shimada’s influences. 

{}}}}{{{{}

McCree shouldn’t have been disappointed that Hanzo hadn’t come on the transport taking him out. He was disappointed when the archer was not at the airport to greet him on arrival. So when he finally saw the sharply dressed man inspecting a finely crafted wooden bow, Jesse didn’t believe his eyes. Black hair much shorter than last he remembered. Slicked and spiked. That stray piece of hair remained curved over the man’s right eye. The suit was obviously tailor made. From the pinstripes to the stylized armor over the right shoulder, this was no mere business suit.

“Is that who I think it is?” Jesse asked in awe. And he hadn’t even seen Hanzo turn around.

Sora chuckled. “You’ve been gone a long time.”

“Damn.”

“I’m sure Sombra would tell you to shut your mouth and quit drooling.”

“Glad she’s not here.” McCree quipped. Sora shook his head in amusement. Now that they had gotten the attention of the well dressed archer, Jesse grinned at the surprise. “You at you. You grew a beard!” It suited the angular face so well. The cowboy needed to run his fingers through the coarse black hair in appreciation.

“And you forgot how to shave.” Hanzo held the bow out for one of his assistants to take. McCree wanted nothing more than to pull the man into a frantic kiss and tight embrace. Almost a year without touch after they were just starting to explore more had nearly killed him. Hanzo however would not take kindly to that. Particularly in front of so many of his men.

Instead Jesse reached out and cupped his archer’s cheek and traced the line of the goatee with his thumb. “Don’t be like that. Almost thought I wasn’t gonna see you tonight.”

“You almost didn’t. If you were five minutes slower I would be gone.”

“Thanks for waiting.”

“Welcome back. Get some rest. I’ll see you in the morning.” The yakuza boss in training was all business. He gripped Jesse’s hand firmly, drawing it away from his face. Jesse sighed at the loss.

“Where’re you going?”

“A business meeting.”

“I’ll come with. Got all my stuff right here.”

“No.”

“But..”

“Jesse, you just got through a seven hour long flight. And I know you don’t sleep well on planes. Not to mention the firefight Sora pulled you out of. Go get some rest. Besides, officially Deadlock has no need to know about this meeting.” That was code for Jesse finding out later, but not to tell Hopkins. He was pretty good about those sorts of things.

As Hanzo put on thin leather gloves and walked to the waiting car, Jesse remembered something very important. “Don’t forget. You’re mine tonight!” He called loudly and cheerfully. Everyone in the garage heard the boisterous phrase. Hanzo paused. Probably to compose himself. Then waved silently with his left hand. Middle finger prominently displayed. And that was when Jesse finally noticed the ‘Nin’ kanji appliqué on the white sleeve. Genji would have been proud to see his bold design on his brother’s dress shirt. “We could do that too!” It was worth it to see red gather at the base of Hanzo’s neck. Being able to tease the uptight son of the yakuza boss was one of the perks of their relationship.

The foot soldiers could have been Omnics for how much emotion they showed. Behind him Sora tried to stifle his laughter. “Alright, McCree. He has a job to do. And you know the drill.”

Jesse sighed. “Yeah. Never even got her unpacked.” He hefted the duffle bag where his revolver rested. Aside from those six shots at the Monaco Casino, McCree had not had proper practice in far too long. He was eager to get back onto the field with the archer by his side. Though if Hanzo was taking on the mantle of oyabun as fully as it looked, that dream would probably never come to pass. 

He did have to marvel at how comfortable Hanamura was now. He could continue to stay on as liaison so long as the odd alliance remained. Though with Hanzo admitting to assisting Overwatch, Jesse wondered how long Hopkins and Sosa would stay on board. But perhaps all the intel he had gathered from staying inside the Headquarters was worth the momentary cooperation. And with Sombra a permanent spy on the inside, that intel would continue to flow in their direction.

Reluctantly Jesse fished out his revolver and turned it over to Sosa. Rules were rules and as much as he hated them, he wasn’t about to be kicked out of Shimada Castle when Hanzo was allowing him to enjoy the man’s company. He had a night to plan after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on tumblr at slytherinladyknight  
> https://slytherinladyknight.tumblr.com


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